Firebird: Death and Rebirth
by Wimpole Street
Summary: For years, Robin always wondered what it would be like to have superhuman powers. But some gifts can be curses. Such power can make you lonely, indeed. Emotions and alliances burn, as a lone bird destroys the world... and creates a new one from the ashes.
1. Prologue: Phoenix Rising

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Teen Titans_, or anything you can recognise from the comics and television show. I don't own the Phoenix and its associates either.

**Rating:** T, for themes and violence.

**Summary:** For years, Robin always wondered what it would be like to have superhuman powers. But some gifts can be curses. Such power can make you lonely, indeed. Emotions and alliances burn, as a lone bird destroys the world... and creates a new one from the ashes. Non-slash; not pairings-driven.

Expect lots of Robin, Slade and the psychological mess that comes from those two. Couples (if any) will be pulled from canon (comics and TV show), so don't be surprised to see hints of RobStar, BBRae, among other couples...

**Spoilers:** _Haunted_, obviously. Chapter One starts in the middle of that lovely episode. Events will start to diverge after that, however.

**Notes:** The Prologue is set in a universe which someone of you may recognise. However, don't worry: this is not a crossover. Chapter One and the rest of the story will be back in our lovely Teen Titans universe. And characters from the Prologue's universe will not appear and only ever be mentioned for the rest of the story (except one certain woman, obviously).

I know that I should working on my Potter story, but I caught the stupid _Teen Titans_ bug. Blame it actually, on that new show, _Young Justice_. Watching it reminded me of _Teen Titans_, which I love tonnes. I'll post a Tempus Tale chapter after my exams are over.

* * *

><p><strong>Firebird<strong>

**– Prologue –**

_Phoenix Rising_

.

-X-X-X-

.

**-?-**

**?, ?**

Inhuman screams slashed the sky. Smoke rolled outwards. Ash fell like snow.

Celeste jumped forward. Her blue eyes, glowing brilliant with energy, searched for her comrades. So far, she could only locate her sisters, Phoebe and Mindee – and that was because of the telepathic bond she shared with them. The fray of battle was making it hard to concentrate. Why did everything have to be difficult for her and her friends? Only minutes ago, she was having a nice, hot shower in the Island's bathroom, when the siren blared and declared that their home was under attack. Supervillains, megalomaniacs, and the other assorted loons. Huh, fate never gave up.

The hulking figure of a Predator, fur gleaming silver, loomed over her shoulder. The beast brandished its claws, as Celeste prepared a Psionic bolt. However, before she could fire the psychic energy, a levitating steel beam slammed into the Predator and skewered it against a wall.

"You looked like you needed a hand," said a boy from Celeste's right. Focusing his telekinesis, the boy hurled another Predator away from their vicinity.

Celeste gave the boy a blank stare, and he winced. Images of irritation and annoyance flickered in his mind, bearing the touch of Celeste's telepathic powers.

"I don't need help, Hellion," Celeste said slowly. She released his mind.

"Do not interfere again."

Rubbing his head, Hellion scowled.

_Having boy troubles, Celeste? _

Celeste ignored Mindee's telepathic call. There was flurry of movement, and Celeste slammed another Predator with enough telepathic energy to knock it out.

_Of course she is. She never likes it when we butt into her business, why shouldn't she be the same with Julian?_

Celeste's eyebrows twitched. The smug tone in Phoebe's voice was… galling.

_Shut it, both of you,_ she broadcasted. _Aren't you forgetting that a bunch of superpowered monsters are trying to butcher us? No time to chat, ladies._

Disregarding the girls' telepathic snickers, Celeste tried to force her psychic will over a horde of Predators which were screeching ahead of her. Her blue eyes burned, as she drew upon her inner-most psychic energies.

Inside her, the Phoenix fragment in her heart hummed. At first, it resisted. Coaxing it to obey, Celeste tugged against the Phoenix's formidable willpower. After a moment of struggling, the fragment yielded to Celeste's mind and released its considerable powers – as it always did.

Phoenix sigils appeared in her blue eyes, shifting them red.

"Listen to my voice… and _surrender!_" Celeste said to the Predators.

The creatures buckled at the knees, unable to disobey Celeste's Phoenix-powered mind control. Very few could. With a burst of psionic light, the silvery beasts crumpled and twitched on the ground. Glee glinted in the sisters' telepathic hive mind. Victory was near –

Then, it happened. Pain struck her like a jackhammer. Celeste dropped her control over the Predators as she gasped. Clawing at her mind, the inner psychic energies exploded within her with the force of a thousand suns.

"No… Not now," she cried, dropping to her feet.

Hellion was already by her side.

"Celeste? What's wrong? Celeste!"

Shuddering, Celeste tried to subdue the telepathic tumult thrashing inside her heart. But the Phoenix fragment was just so… _powerful_. The screams of Phoebe and Mindee overlayed over her own.

"The Phoenix… it's leaving me… leaving us," Celeste whispered.

"Leaving you?" Hellion repeated, his eyes widening. "Celeste, that thing can't possibly be – "

Burning with strength, the Phoenix fragments sealed inside Celeste and her sisters flared again. Celeste choked in pain.

"It's chosen a new avatar; it's returning to its master," she said quietly.

_Celeste, it hurts so much!_

_Sister, we can't hold the Phoenix any longer! We're running out of time!_

The girls' telepathy hive mind squirmed in agony. Then, with a burst of fiery light, a ray of psychic energy burst out of the sisters, who collapsed in a heap. All around the Island, people stopped even their fighting to stare at the firebird coalescing above them.

The Phoenix screeched.

Fire tore the heavens.

Holding Celeste's limp form in his arms, Hellion could only watch as the Phoenix, that vast cosmic entity, soar into the bloodstained sky and disappear through a dimensional schism.

"A world," Hellion said in a small, fearful voice. "Is about to burn."

* * *

><p><strong>-The White Hot Room-<strong>

**Nexus of Universes, The End of The Circle**

Immortal burning. The pieces of the Phoenix swirled and combined into a pool of raw, destructive energy. The firebird cawed, releasing a deluge of heat and psychic force. Only a few fragments remained scattered in the universes before it was complete, whole again…

A part of its massive conscious that could only be the White Crown whispered into the void. The Crown wished to spare another person the difficult fate of becoming the next Phoenix avatar.

_It is unavoidable,_ replied a greater consciousness of the Phoenix. _By adopting another human, we can channel the precious human energies and emotions to concentrate our powers… accelerate the search for our final fragments._

A flame flickered, and the White Crown murmured and conceded reluctantly. _Is there a way of avoiding our first home, then? Our previous universe._

Opening its talons, the psychic entity trilled. It was not too horrible an alternative to consider adopting the next avatar from a new, foreign universe.

The White Crown released a soft pulse of relief.

_But the next avatar must be more emotional than the last, _demanded a part of the Phoenix. The telepathic girls were too frigid and unfeeling to drive the psychic gestalt. _More anger, more passion this time._

_Agreed,_ the Crown answered.

And so the Phoenix, nearly at a whole, dove into the multiverse and began its search for a new avatar.

.

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-X-X-X-

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.


	2. Chapter One: From the Ashes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Teen Titans_, or anything you can recognise from the comics and television show.

**A/N:** _Code Geass_ heavily influenced this chapter. Actually, there is a strong _Code Geass_-flavour in the entire fic. I did get the idea for this fic when I was watching _Code Geass_ and I wondered what would happen if the comic book-equivalent of Geass happened to our favourite Titan.

Slade can provide all the mind-screw we need.

A beta-reader would be great. Also, I actually prefer reviews to C2 recommendations and/or story-author alerts. Seriously, direct feedback enriches _my soul_~

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><p><strong>– CHAPTER ONE –<strong>

_From the Ashes_

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-X-X-X-

.

**-Titans Earth-**

**Melbourne, Australia**

The moment the Phoenix entered this universe, a wave of raw, psychic energy pulsed through the globe. Immediately, certain individuals – candidates for the next avatar – gasped in pain.

In Melbourne, Australia, a young girl with blond pigtails collapsed in the middle of PE. Her friends dropped the basketball and rushed to her side.

"Lilith! Lilith Clay! Speak up!" the teacher said, touching the convulsing girl.

"My head hurts," the girl whimpered.

**-Titans Earth-**

**Star City, California**

Miles across the Pacific Ocean, a city of shimmering billboards and sawdust restaurants jostled. Throbbing with upscale casinos and backlit bars, Star City produced in the night sky a plume of flickering light from its hotels and skyscrapers. Perfumed and bejewelled, coiffured women floated on high heels bought on the purses of their husbands and benefactors. Smoky alleyways, adorned with drug dealers and promotional posters alike, weaved through the city, giving the impression of a capillary system of jazz and corruption. A memorial to Jeb Star, the city's founding father, stood in front of Town Hall. Streetlights, glimmering like mirages, illuminated the statue's marble smile down at laughing party-goers and listless homeless. Even with the protection of the night time vigilante, Green Arrow, Star City still could not escape the corruption and vice which brought it its economic fame.

Two green-skinned heroes flew against this ritzy backdrop.

The older of the two, a bald man, frowned.

"M'gann, could you please stop chewing your hair?" said the man.

M'gann had the decency to look embarrassed. She spat out the coil of red hair. "Sorry. I didn't mean to."

"You never actually mean to. But it still happens. Please refrain in the future; hair mastication is not a very savoury habit."

"Right," said M'gann sheepishly.

Curious, she tilted her head towards her companion. "Uncle J'onn, what exactly are we doing, by the way?"

"Two hours ago, I sensed a minor psychic disturbance originating from the Star City area," replied J'onn. "The Justice League has decided that it would be best if two Martians such as ourselves investigate this strange phenomenon."

"Because we're telepaths?"

J'onn paused. "Yes. Among other things."

The two figures became silent again.

M'gann, a little uncomfortable with the quiet, piped in: "Uncle J'onn, what is the League like these days? Did you fight any interesting criminals recently?"

"Poison Ivy got out of Arkham again and succeeded in turning Gotham into a giant greenhouse," said J'onn the Martian Manhunter. He stopped at a murky alleyway to check a wall for any unusual, psycho-inductive residues. "The situation was getting so bad that Batman put aside his pride and requested additional assistance, which was an unusual event in itself."

"More unusual than Gotham turning into a miniature rainforest?" M'gann joked.

"Yes," J'onn deadpanned.

_He's actually being serious,_ M'gann realised. She blinked. _Wow, that's… sad._

"What about Jump City?" she asked, curious. "I heard that a teenage girl took over the city for a period of time, before turning into stone. Did the Justice League stop her?"

A spark of surprise jolted M'gann. Was J'onn actually looking _uncomfortable_?

"Batman forbids us from talking about that little disaster," J'onn said slowly, glancing at his feet. "But the short answer is, Miss Martian, _no_. Jump City is an atypical area which is outside the Justice League's jurisdiction, for an assortment of reasons.

M'gann donned a thoughtful face. 'Atypical area'? What on Mars was J'onn talking about?

She was about to ask J'onn more questions, when the older Martian abruptly stiffened. He clutched his forehead, as though in pain.

"Uncle J'onn, what's wrong?" M'gann asked quickly. She touched his arm. "Is something – _ah!_"

A psychic scream lashed in M'gann's mind, echoing like an explosion. It was as though all the telepathic voices in the world were speaking at once, in a brawl of cacophony.

"What's happening?" M'gann whispered, her voices coming in throaty, little gasps. "I have never felt anything like this before…"

Despite the great pain he felt, J'onn staggered over to M'gann and supported her against a wall.

"Neither have I. But be strong, M'gann. This pain cannot last forever," he assured her.

Flinching, M'gann squeezed her head. "I know, Uncle J'onn… Why does it feel like something terrible is about to happen, though?"

**-Titans Earth-**

**The Bank of Pérez, New York City**

Murakami Avenue was far from the picture of good health. On the surface, it was embellished with clean roads whose grey, even layers of cement displayed none of the tell-tale indentations that came from excess traffic and poor maintenance. A subway station, an indication of good infrastructure, stood at the left corner, while an impressive, sandstone building housed the hotel and the Manhattan branch of the Bank of Pérez. However, under this pretty patina, politicians locked their dirty secrets in the bank's many vaults, and salary men tousled giggly schoolgirls under the vigilant watch of the hotel staff, who pocketed their extra cash and said nothing.

However, even though Murakami was filthy, nobody denied its impressive wealth. Especially bank robbers.

Therefore, it was unsurprising that, on this darkened night, a gristly figure slunk around level three of Murakami's Bank of Pérez. This figure was a hunched man whose pinched face and dark attire emphasised an untrustworthy demeanour. The fact that translucent glass constituted the upper part of his head, revealing his brain, did not help.

The man sent a telepathic call. _Idiots, have you deactivated the bank's security system?_

He almost immediately regretted asking that question.

_Hey, who is he calling an idiot?_

_Definitely not me, that's for sure!_

_If it's me 'cause yesterday I said that Sesame Street was educational, I don't normally say stuff like that!_

_Shut up, See-more. You're always stupid._

The man gritted his teeth. There was a reason why few bothered to hire the H.I.V.E. Five anymore. Imbecilic teenagers.

He concentrated his telepathic call on the leader of the five, Jinx: _Can you hear me, girl?_

_Uh, yes,_ Jinx replied over the telepathic hive mind.

_Child, I'm not impressed. If this is the best that the H.I.V.E. Five can do, perhaps we should terminate this mission._

The girl's thoughts became flustered. _No!_ _Psimon, I apologise for the behaviour of my team, but please don't fire us! The team's been restless ever since the Teen Titans trashed our home at Jump, and this is our first big job in weeks –_

_We'll discuss the minutiae of your angsty teenage existence later,_ Psimon growled. _Just get Gizmo to jam the security cameras already._

Psimon's telepathic voice became darker. _Hopefully this Bank of Pérez won't give you as much trouble as its sister bank back in Jump. You don't want to disappoint the H.I.V.E. Academy, do you?_

Jinx grew nervous. _Of course not._

Psimon scowled, as he ended the telepathic conversation with the girl. Children were too easy to scare. Just mention a couple of their past failures and hint at the possibility of punishment, and they were putty in your hands. Why Psimon's contractor imagined that the H.I.V.E. Five would be any less pathetic, Psimon did not understand. Perhaps the hooligans possessed an entertainment value? Maybe...

Psimon's train of thought didn't last very long, however. Suddenly, an immense psychic backlash struck his mind. Psimon had weathered telepathic forces in the past, but none were as coarse or potent as this bombardment.

_Pity… I'll now have to entrust this bank heist to a bunch of useless children,_ realised Psimon, as he shuddered.

His last thought before fainting was that the H.I.V.E. Five were going to screw it up, as they did with all their past assignments...

**-Titans Earth-**

**H.I.V.E. Academy, 25 Miles off the coast of Steel City**

"Brother Blood! Are you okay?"

Bumblebee stood over Brother Blood, hoisting the H.I.V.E. Headmaster at the arms. The dark-skinned girl wore a concerned expression. Or at least what Blood thought was a concerned expression; these days, he wasn't so sure anymore. This year, all of his students seemed to be either traitors or spies.

How troublesome.

Shaking his head, Blood straightened his arms. He had more pressing matters to worry about than Bumblebee's loyalty, like the peculiar event which had occurred only minutes ago. He was finalising his plans to destroy Jump City, when a migraine struck him. Only this was no ordinary migraine. It was extreme, much more severe than Blood's run-of-the-mill headaches. Somehow, Blood was certain that a telepath was involved. A dangerous telepath, who could pose a serious threat.

"Brother Blood? Should I call the nurse?" asked Bumblebee.

Blood shook his head and stood up.

"No need," he said, returning his gaze to his computer. For now, he would concentrate on building the Sonic Resonator and flooding Jump City and Steel City. After the tidal waves, he would try to get to the bottom of this event.

"Bumblebee, fetch me a mechanic. I want to run a few more checks on the Resonator's power outputs," Brother Blood said to his protégé. "We want to ensure that Aqualad didn't sabotage it in his last little invasion attempt."

The girl nodded, before leaving the room.

Once he was sure that he was alone, Blood angrily slammed his fist against the wall. Nobody, _especially_ telepaths, messes with Brother Blood's mind and gets away with it.

**-Titans Earth-**

**Titans Tower, Jump City**

In the medical bay of the Titans Tower, a young boy lay strapped to a hospital bed. Glowing dimly through a thunderstorm, the moon cast a silvery light across the boy's tautened body. Several cuts and bruises peeked through gnashes in his uniform. Even so, the boy was remarkably intact and in shape; although his stature was small, the muscles were lithe and compact, while his pale skin revealed numerous but minor scars. A thin, black mask covered a delicate face accented with high cheek bones and pink, pert lips that had been chapped from the boy's bad habit of constantly licking them. He was a remarkable specimen. Of course he was; he was Robin, the leader of the Teen Titans and protégé of the Dark Knight. Batman wouldn't train anyone who was less than special.

Robin gasped and thrashed against his restraints. His own teammates were imprisoning him, like he was some nutcase or criminal! How could they? After everything he had did for them, saving their butts time after time, going on that horrifying date with Kitten, even bowing to Slade's will and becoming his apprentice –

The Boy Wonder struggled. _Slade!_ He was still out there! Nobody else knew what Slade could do! The man could accomplish things that only Robin's nightmares were made of. Robin had to stop him, before it was too late!

_You would know what kind of things Slade is capable of,_ a sly little voice said in Robin's mind. _He trained you to do the same things, remember? You were his apprentice. A perfect villain._

"I'm not – a _villain_," Robin said out loud, spitting out the last word.

_Oh, you are, Robin. You're just like him, equally ruthless and willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. You're dangerous._

"That's not true!" Robin shouted. His fingers curled in a fist.

"I'm a hero, one of the good guys. I swore to enact justice," he said to himself, almost as a mantra.

He took a deep breath and tried to relax his muscles. He needed to make a plan, get out of here and find Slade. Capture the villain and bring him to justice, before the seismic generators destroy the city.

If only it was as easy as it sounded.

Robin stopped moving. There was a low murmuring outside the medical bay. Itching as forward as his restraints would allow, Robin strained to hear the conversation.

"…but must we keep him restrained?" asked Starfire. Her silhouette appeared to wring her hands.

Despite his horrible surroundings, Robin couldn't help but smile. The warmth and concern in Starfire's voice made him feel welcome… loved.

"He threatened us, Star," Cyborg said flatly. "He's dangerous."

Robin's face returned to a scowl. _So that's what Cyborg thinks, that I'm "dangerous". Nice to know where you stand, Cy._

The silhouette of Beast Boy pushed past Cyborg.

"Dangerous? Try totally flipped-out cuckoo-labanza!" Beast Boy exclaimed.

Sniffling, he made a wild gesture with his hands, as if to illustrate the depth of the Boy Wonder's lunacy. Then, he sneezed and crashed into some plates, which made Robin smirk. Even though the Titans' leader tried not to.

_Beast Boy, that's what happens when you talk about people behind your back._

"We've got to run some tests on him," said Raven. She gave Beast Boy, who was still sneezing, a serious look. "Figure out what's going on."

The rest of the Titans nodded. As the Titans walked away to examine Robin's medical stats, a low voice drawled out.

"Alone again, Robin?"

Robin tensed_. That voice!_

His eyes widening, Robin thrashed against the bed and prayed that restraints would break. It was pointless; all his struggles did was increase the burning rashes on his wrists.

"As long as I'm around, you are never alone," whispered the voice.

Its owner stepped out from behind the hospital drapes. At that moment, a bolt of lightning streaked down from the sky and illuminated the shadow's face. A metal mask, with only one eye.

"_Slade,_" Robin choked.

Slithering towards Robin's bed, Slade clapped his hands together, as though he was pleased to see the teenaged hero. Robin could only gasp when Slade pulled something _sharp_ from his belt. The thing was long, with a metallic edge which curved in at keen, abrupt angles.

A scalpel.

"Relax, Robin," Slade purred. His voice was like blood and honey.

He drew closer to Robin, who thrashed harder and more desperately against the straps. For the first time in many years, fear – raw and hot – impaled Robin.

"No, don't," Robin said, gripping his hands into fists, tightly. So tightly that his nails began to bite into the flesh of his palms and draw blood.

Slade just chuckled and tapped the scalpel. Its razor-edge quivered with the added benefit of electricity.

"I promise you won't feel a thing," he said.

**-Titans Earth-**

**Outside the Medical Bay, Titans Tower**

Starfire stared at the door of the medical bay. She pressed her right hand on the door and leaned forward. If she concentrated, she could hear the sound of Robin thrashing against the restraints, gasping under invisible blows. Her green eyes watered a little. Robin looked so _angry_ at the warehouse. His normally kind face was contorted with such revulsion and enmity, as though she and the Titans had betrayed him. And when he crumpled under a surprise attack from behind, Starfire knew that his eyes, even though hidden by his mask, would have been wide with shock and sorrow.

How could she have attacked him like that? Wasn't he her dearest Earth friend?

Shaking her head, Starfire turned to her friends.

"Please, you have uncovered the cause of his strange behaviour?" she asked.

Cyborg and Raven exchanged a look; they didn't miss the twinge of desperation in Starfire's tone.

"So far, everything looks normal," Raven said, checking the computer.

"But he is _not_ normal," Starfire said. "Robin would not do these things. He would not threaten his friends, he would not shout at me, or – "

Trembling, Starfire gritted her teeth. "There _is_ a cause! And you must find it!"

"Star, I'm sure there's a good explanation, okay?" Beast Boy reassured. He scratched his head. "Maybe Slade really is invisible and we just can't –"

Raven interrupted. She cried and clutched her head.

Cyborg leapt to his feet. "Raven!"

"There's something – _terrible_ in the Tower," Raven said, short of breath. "Its voice is so _loud_, I want it to stop."

Her limbs felt weak. A wave of nausea slammed into her, throwing the air out of her lungs. In one, awful moment, she trembled and wobbled on the spot, as though her feet could no longer support the weight of her body. Stiffening in horror, Beast Boy caught Raven's eyes and watched as the spark fizzled behind them. She collapsed like a discarded rag doll.

Chaos descended. Cyborg caught Raven before she hit the floor, while Beast Boy dashed to the unconscious girl's side and repeatedly called out her name. His voice was thick with phlegm and emotion. Quavering, Starfire squeezed Raven's hand.

Nobody was unable to notice Robin's heart-rate changing.

**-Titans Earth-**

**Medical Bay, Titans Tower**

"I knew you liked it rough in bed," Slade said. His voice was a soft purr.

Robin panted and jerked against the straps, as sweat began to puddle around the blood from his thighs. Slade dug the scalpel deeper into Robin's legs. The veins in his calves bulged, as another soundless scream tore Robin's throat. With almost mocking gentleness, Slade touched the pale skin showing through tears in the teen's leg claddings.

"Such pretty white skin," Slade commented, running his fingers down Robin's legs. His tone became mocking. "It's surprisingly hairless. Do you shave your legs, Robin?"

"I hate you," Robin spat out.

Slade's response was to punch Robin in the stomach. The teen's small frame hunched and curled under the impact of the blow.

Robin felt his leg spasm when Slade pulled out the scalpel, slowly and agonisingly.

"Let's put that lovely mouth of yours to good use, shall we?" Slade said. He clicked the switch on the scalpel, which started to spark with electricity. "A little electroshock therapy should loosen a few secrets from that tongue."

Robin couldn't help but shudder.

"Who is Batman?" Slade asked, drawing the electric scalpel towards Robin's arms.

"Selina Kyle."

Slade chuckled. "Your sense of humour is endearing."

Robin clenched his teeth when Slade pressed the scalpel downwards. The masked man wasn't finished, however. Pushing through muscle, Slade forced the sparking metal towards solid bone, jolting Robin's ulna. Gripping the bed, Robin stared at the ceiling through hot, wet eyes. Why was this happening to him? What had he done wrong? The teen was sure that he wasn't a bad person; he dedicated his life to saving others, he stopped crime, he even made sure he ate all his greens and Brussels sprouts.

Then why?

Slade twisted the scalpel. Robin convulsed and flailed in the bed; his muscles clenched so hard that every joint screamed, as though his very bones were liquefying.

_Where are your friends now, Robin? _asked a small, dark voice in Robin's mind. _They're right outside, yet they won't even come in. Even after everything you've done for them, they don't care._

"No," Robin whispered.

_Beast Boy thinks you're dangerous, remember?_

Sighing, Slade withdrew the scalpel.

"Robin, your strength is truly admirable," he said, twirling the scalpel. "But even you will buckle eventually."

As Slade sliced into his right forearm again, Robin closed his eyes. The memories your mind replayed while under great distress were amazing. The best and worst of his life flashed through a montage:

**H**e was crying in Bruce's arms, after the billionaire had decided to adopt him. Two-Face's grotesque face hovered over him while the monster punched him over and over again. More memories.

"_Your eyes are beautiful_," said Barbara, leaning in towards his cheek.

**B**arbara's face disappeared, and the memory of the Joker materialised. When the maniac laughed, there was a single gunshot and Robin was bleeding. Just like how he was in this hospital bed, under Slade's ministrations.

**S**tarfire was smiling at him and offering him a jar of mustard. Cyborg was calling him 'dangerous'. Beast Boy was laughing, showing him a new video game. Raven was cursing his name when he donned the Red X persona and threw a bomb at her. Starfire was kissing him.

Even though he was dangerous. Even though the others thought he was crazy.

But she blasted a starbolt in his back.

She blasted a starbolt in his back

She blasted a starbolt in his back.

_Why? Am I not worth it?_

Then, Robin felt his body writhe. His skin was melting in acid, and every nerve was burning, stretching, snapping. Then, a strange cool settled over him. Slade wasn't there anymore; only endless, eternal silence.

Then, a disembodied voice:

"_Do you wish to live?"_

**-Titans Earth-**

**Outside the Medical Bay, Titans Tower**

Raven had suffered psychic headaches before. Back in Azarath, her teachers incorporated them into her training schedule. Apparently, resisting telepathic onslaughts was a necessary skill that _every_ magic user should know. At the time, Raven scoffed and called the instructors paranoid.

Now she knew why Azarath was so insistent that she learn that skill.

Mentally running through her training exercises, Raven tried to block the telepathic force. But it was too strong.

"What is happening to me?" Raven asked herself. She knew that she was currently unconscious from pain; there was no other reason why she was floating in her mindscape.

"Maybe a telepath is attacking the Titans Tower?" considered Raven.

She frowned. "Psimon, maybe?"

While Raven considered the reasons to why Psimon would attack the Titans Tower, a huge firebird materialised behind her. Cawing loudly, the creature wrapped its wings around the shocked Raven. Flames burst outwards, like a blossoming begonia.

She began to remember many things. Rescuing Starfire from the Gordanians. Her father Trigon and his plan to ransack the universe. Cyborg talking to her Emotions. Robin telling her that it was okay to feel. Beast Boy's lame jokes and his irritating infatuation with Terra. The sound of Robin laughing when he relaxes and plays video-games. Her mother's heartshaped face.

Beast Boy and his stupid, stupid smile.

"What – is – this!" Raven hissed, glaring at the firebird.

How dare this, this _thing_, go through her memories? Invade her privacy like that?

The creature soared upwards, sending skittering flames with every flap of a wing.

"_Although you show great promise, like the Martians, your emotions are too inexpressive and incoherent for you to be my avatar,"_ said the firebird. "_Perhaps when you learn to feel more, we shall meet again."_

The creature paused. _"Wish luck on your friend."_

When Raven tried to protest and demand the bird to clarify, the folds of her mindscape churned and Raven found herself waking to consciousness again.

"R-Raven!" cried Beast Boy, hugging her tightly. "You're okay! I was worried!"

Ignoring the heat in her cheeks, Raven pushed the sneezing, green-skinned boy away. "Mucous and phlegm. Everything a girl wants."

"Raven, how are you feeling?" Cyborg asked. "Do you remember anything?"

"Not much. I'll tell you more about later," Raven said. She stood up and dusted herself off. "Right now, we should concentrate on Robin and helping him out."

When Raven mentioned Robin's name, Starfire's face twisted in dawning horror. Cyborg and Beast Boy felt their eyes widen.

"Robin!" Starfire screamed, dashing to the computer monitoring Robin's heartbeat. She clutched the keyboard and started sobbing. "His heart rate is hyper-extreme, blood pressure and neural kinetics – "

Starfire choked, looking horrified. "Most humans cannot survive this kind of stress!"

Raven shot Beast Boy a dark stare. "Why weren't you guys checking on him? You should have been making sure he was okay!"

Biting his lip, Beast Boy sniffled and shuffled his legs. "You had collapsed so suddenly that we all got surprised and caught up in the moment – "

"There's no time to argue. We have to help Robin! Now!" Cyborg shouted.

When he started to run to the medical bay, however, a flash of fiery light erupted from behind the door.

**-Titans Earth-**

**Medical Bay, Titans Tower**

"_Do you wish to live?"_

The disembodied voice echoed around him, coming from everywhere with seemingly no actual source. Robin felt his world turn to white. Suddenly, he was floating in water. By the rules of logic, he should have been drowning… but then how was he breathing?

His clothes melted away, and strange memories faded in and out of the water. A redhaired woman kissed a man with darkened sunglasses. A dark man wielded a silver sword. Blond triplets shared a slice of pizza with a tired, injured boy.

"What is this?" Robin said.

Maybe he had truly gone mad. All those years of fighting Arkham inmates at Gotham and Slade's torture must have broken him. But if he was mad, then why did he feel so at peace?

"_You show great potential,"_ the voice echoed, as Robin turned around. _"Such impressive latent power, suppressed by an unconscious, ingrained belief that you are unworthy, ordinary. Who knew that one could belittle oneself so much?"_

An image of a bald, disabled man placing his hand on a redhaired girl. The man's eyes glowed for a moment.

"_I wonder if that is the case…"_

The man in the wheelchair and the redhaired girl disappeared in a swirl of white. New, more familiar images flashed in front of Robin's eyes.

He was ten again and sleeping at Wayne Manor. He was trashing and crying out nonsensical names, when Bruce and a tall, soft-faced woman, Dr Leslie Thompkins, entered the room. Both were wearing concerned expressions.

"Are you sure that this will help with his nightmares?" Bruce asked Dr Thompkins.

Frowning, the woman pulled out a syringe from her briefcase. She didn't look particularly comfortable with the whole situation.

"It's an experimental drug, Bruce," said Dr Thompkins. She approached Dick and cleaned the needle with some antiseptic. "Although clinical trials have been successful so far, you never know with these kinds of things."

Bruce didn't respond. Carefully, he restrained his ward with a few straps.

"I just want him to stop dreaming about his parents dying," Bruce said. He fixed the doctor with a hard look. "Among other things."

"Hope for the best, then," Dr Thompkins said.

She lowered the needle towards the boy –

"_How fascinating,"_ the voice said softly; Robin decided that it was distinctly feminine. _"What other secrets do you have?"_

His life flashed before his eyes.

**_One._**_ He was an acrobatic kid prodigy at Haley's Circus. His mother stroked his cheek._

"_My little Robin. Remember who you are," she said._

**_Two._**_ He was hiding behind a corner and listening to a mobster threatening the safety of the circus performers, unless Haley paid insurance. This little boy didn't do anything about it._

_Later that night, his parents fell and fell…_

**_Three._**_ He was chasing Zucco, that vile mobster, down an abandoned pier. Eventually, he had captured the monster and could have killed him on the spot. But Batman's words about justice over vengeance echoed in his ears. He threw a birdarang into the mobster, piercing the shoulder._

_Later the police arrested the monster, and Batman congratulated him for his self-control. What Batman didn't know was that he really did try to kill the mobster._

_He just missed. Pathetic, pathetic aim…_

"I don't want this! Stop – reading my mind!" Robin cried at the disembodied voice. He drew his knees into his chest. "I don't want this…"

**_Four._**_ He was pummelling a particularly disgusting pimp, who had his paws in all kinds of human trafficking. The righteous anger, exhilarating adrenaline, was surging. His hands were getting bloody, when Batgirl approached him from behind._

_She stroked his cheek. "Remember who you are, Robin."_

_When Robin relented and released the pimp, Batgirl smiled in relief and reached for his lips –_

**_Five._**_ He was standing in front of Bruce, feeling like a kid. Bruce had taken off his Batman cowl, revealing that his eyes had hardened, like granite._

"_I don't want you to fight crime anymore," he said._

_Robin felt his world crumble. _I need to prove myself more. Why am I so weak?_ A resolve to validate his existence solidified._

"STOP! NO, STOP IT!" Robin shouted. He clenched his hands, wiping the wetness off his face.

**_Six._**_ He was Slade's Apprentice. The masked man whispered in his ear._

"_I know it seems bad now. But trust me you'll learn to like it."_

_Robin glared at the man, feeling more hatred than a thousand fires. He dreamed of tearing that man apart, making him pay –_

**_Seven._**_ He was fighting Slade, as always. He needed to force the man to reveal the location of the seismic generators, he had to._

_Now, Slade was hovering over him in the Titans' medical bay. That scalpel dug deeper and deeper into his flesh. He needed to stop this, be stronger, stop this._

_Stop this._

_Stop._

"STOP!"

"_You don't want it to end here, do you?"_ whispered the voice. When Robin growled and defiantly lifted his head up, the voice chortled, as though it was amused.

"_You appear to have a reason to live. Such rage, passion, self-loathing… yes, you shall do. I propose a contract."_

The water around Robin vanished into a storm of fire. He fell to his knees, gasping as all his secrets, his memories, revolved around him in the blistering flames. Never before had he felt so vulnerable and exposed.

"_I will grant you a power like no other. It will give you the strength to defeat Slade and prove yourself to this cruel world, but you will live a different life. You will become a lonely avatar, in a different time, a different existence, a different providence. But you will be able to fulfil some of your greatest wishes."_

Robin stared into the blaze. It sounded like a good deal, actually. The strength to end Slade once and for all, and to protect his friends…

But nothing came free. Robin knew this.

"And what do you want in return for this power?" Robin asked.

"_In exchange for my gift, you must grant me one of my wishes when the time comes. This is our contract."_

From the flames, the translucent image of green-eyed woman emerged. She gazed at him and extended her hand.

"_Do you agree to the terms of our contract?"_

Robin remembered the trilling sound of Starfire's laugh, so safe and happy, and his wavering doubt stilled. He grabbed the woman's hand.

"Yes, I accept the terms of your contract!"

As soon as he shouted, the recoiling flames converged into the scorching form of a phoenix. With an echoing cry, the bird dove into him, and Robin felt himself thrust back into reality. He tried to move, but he quickly realised that he was still bound to the hospital bed. He tensed when Slade stroked his arms.

"Such firm muscles. You've been working out, Robin," Slade said. The masked man twirled the scalpel and lowered it towards the arm joint.

The cogs in Robin's mind turned, and a soft voice, much like the feminine one from his mindscape, spoke.

"_This is not Slade. The real one is encased under a metric tonne of solid lava,"_ the voice whispered, calming Robin's fears. _"This Slade is a figment of your imagination. He's only in your mind. Dispel him with your gift."_

Clenching his hands, Robin turned to Slade.

"You're only in my mind...only in the dark," he muttered, the realisation dawning upon him. Every time lightning struck outside, Slade's figure wavered out of existence. Starfire couldn't see him, Cyborg's radar couldn't sense him, Raven couldn't locate him or his seismic generators…

Now that the voice in his mind had clarified his thoughts, Robin could see it now. His eyes flashing with resolve, the teen raised his voice.

"My friends were right! You aren't real!"

Lightning struck again, and Slade's form flickered like a candle against the wind.

"I'm real enough to finish you!" Slade hissed.

The man lunged forward. As though in a trance, Robin raised his hands.

A fiery bolt of telepathic energy slammed into the phantasm. The figure howled and dropped the scalpel. Hot air billowed outwards from Slade's splayed form, as the medical bay spurted with shafts of golden light.

"Lights out, Slade," Robin said quietly.

There was a whooshing sound, and the apparition coiled, before vanishing with a flash. As it fell to the floor, the scalpel evaporated in thin air.

Relieved, Robin slumped into the bed. At this moment, Cyborg and Starfire dashed into the medical bay, with Beast Boy and Raven on their heels.

"Robin!" Starfire cried, latching onto the teen hero.

"It's okay, Starfire," Robin said wearily. He started to close his eyes. "It's okay. It's over now."

The alien girl wept and drew the boy closer into an embrace. Cyborg and Beast Boy gave out a sigh of relief, while Raven showed as much emotion as she could on her blank face. Judging from Robin's peaceful expression, it looked like the hallucination nightmare really was over.

"Finally," Raven murmured to herself. "Everything is going to return back to normal."

If Raven had only sought to peel off Robin's mask, she would have recanted that statement.

Under the tell-tale domino mask, Robin's blue eyes changed. Two orange sigils in the form of phoenixes appeared, before withdrawing, as the Boy Wonder finally fell asleep.

.

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-X-X-X-

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	3. Chapter Two: Boy Meets Girl

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Teen Titans_, or anything you can recognise from the comics and television show.

**A/N:** This chapter was hard to write. I wanted to include the events of _Spellbound_ (a.k.a. Malchior), but Robin really wanted to contemplate the nature of his new powers. And whether or not he actually gained the power of telepathy, among other things. On the question of Robin's powers, I don't want to overpower him or make him a God-Sue, so his Phoenix abilities will be very limited to begin with. And he'll have control issues as well. An in-universe explanation of all this will be given, so don't worry.

Also, people have asked about romance/pairings. Okay, this fic isn't a pairings-driven/romance fanfic, but there will be some romance. It's unavoidable in good stories, in my opinion. However, it won't be the main focus of the story. For pairings, btw, I refer to canon, which includes the wider DC universe canon.

All characters in this chapter are from canon (including the man); some comic book knowledge would help, but isn't necessary.

Please review! I actually prefer direct feedback over recommendations. Cheers.

* * *

><p><strong>– CHAPTER TWO –<strong>

_Boy Meets Girl_

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-X-X-X-

.

**Titans Tower, Jump City**

Cyborg frowned and leaned against the wall. He was watching Robin in the Titans' medical bay, all the while racking his brain to figure out what exactly had happened to the Boy Wonder. He had hallucinated, that much was given. Given that Terra had pulverised the real Slade, those wounds and scratches could only be self-induced. But why? Why hurt himself and do… _this_? Cyborg was reasonably certain that Robin hadn't gone around the bend, even after factoring in the teen's coloured history in Gotham and the intense pressure of fighting nutcases like the Joker and Two-Face at the age of twelve.

That said, it was always possible that – _No_. Cyborg shook his head. Those were mutinous thoughts. Best not go down there.

Cyborg stared at the team leader. It was strange watching Robin sleep. He looked so… _peaceful_ that it was uncharacteristic.

"Hey, Cyborg! You gotta come here!" Beast Boy called from outside the medical bay. "I think I found something."

Cyborg hopped to his feet and walked over to the Teen Titans' mainframe computer, around which Beast Boy and Raven were crouching. Starfire was sitting on the brown futon, picking miserably at the loose ends of one of the cushions.

"What is it, guys?" Cyborg asked.

"The computer finished analysing our lab results," said Beast Boy quickly.

"Which ones? Robin's blood sample?"

Raven nodded. "Yeah, the ones we called from his superficial vein."

When Cyborg leaned towards the monitor for a closer look, Raven switched the screen to an x-rayed image of Robin's body.

"That's Robin's nervous system," explained Beast Boy. "The computer keeps on flashing over here and here."

Transforming into an octopus, he tapped a part of the head and a section of the spine.

"Any ideas?" Raven said.

Narrowing his good eye, Cyborg scrutinised the image. The blinking eye of the monitor stared back, tenaciously. Could it be? Even if it was, how could have Slade done it? The man was thrown into _magma_, out of all things.

"I think I got something," he said finally. "If what I'm seein' is true, then it could only mean one thing."

Beast Boy morphed back into his human form. Sniffling, he rubbed his nose. "What do you mean, Cy?"

"Robin's been drugged," Cyborg answered.

"A chemical reagent! I knew it. His mind had been affected by a hallucinogen!"

Everyone spun around to the person who yelled. Starfire was standing up, her face alight with realisation and relief. The cushion lay on the floor, its loose ends splayed out like a fan.

"It all makes sense. Our friend Robin would never hurt us or injure himself voluntarily," Starfire continued, clapping her hands together. "He is not a Drof'ka! He is still a Vandorf'nog!"

Beast Boy and Raven turned to Cyborg for judgment.

Cyborg scratched his head, as he enlarged the image representing Robin's body. "Uh, I don't know what a Drof'ka or Vandorf'nog is, but see those areas flashing on the computer screen? Represents coerced neurological activity. A chemical has infiltrated Robin's central nervous system."

"Have you figured out what this chemical is?" Beast Boy asked.

"Not exactly. But it had to be orally introduced," said Cyborg. "I was thinking maybe some kind of dust?"

"There is a layer of particulate residue on Slade's mask, which Robin frequently inspects," Starfire interjected.

Determined, she flew upward. "Shall I fetch it for analysis in the lab of science?"

"That would be a start. I'm still a little freaked out, though," said Cyborg.

He plopped himself down on the futon.

Beast Boy's face crinkled. "What do you mean?"

Cyborg sighed and stared at the ceiling. "If it is dust that's messing with Robin's head, there's something more we have to worry about. A neurological reaction like Robin's can't be easily elicited. The dust had to be remotely activated – "

" – which means someone triggered the dust from outside the Tower," finished Raven.

Her eyes widened first, and then narrowed. "Someone was trying to kill Robin."

**Medical Bay, Titans Tower**

The next morning Robin woke up early, earlier than he normally would. Darkness clung to the horizon, like spun silk, while the daybreak's sun hovered nowhere in sight. It was not yet dawn, it seemed. Nobody else would be up.

Robin pulled off the covers. As he stood up, a slight pain shivered in his left leg where, bandaged under some gauze, a few cuts stretched downwards. His body still wasn't completely back to normal, even after Raven's healing session last night.

Last night… The hallucination and that apparition of Slade. Raven said that the ordeal was over, but Robin wasn't entirely sure. The conversation he shared with the girl was strange:

"_Cyborg said that there was a chemical reagent in your body," Raven said, while she was healing his shoulders. "Some sort of dust that infiltrated your central nervous system."_

"_Dust?" Robin repeated._

"_Dust. From Slade's mask. The man pulled one final trick on us," she replied. Concentrating, the girl siphoned away more of Robin's pain. "Don't worry, though. Your body has already phased it out."_

_Gritting his teeth, Robin lowered his head. "The dust. It made me see, hear, and feel Slade, even though he wasn't there. He wasn't real, but – "_

" – _he was real to you," said Raven quietly. After another minute, she took her hands off Robin's shirtless back. "All done. You'll need to stay the night here, though. There were a couple of cuts and scrapes I couldn't get."_

"_Nothing I can't handle," said Robin. _

_His muscles tensed as he took a loose, white shirt off the chair and eased it on. _

"_Thanks for the healing. I don't know what I would've done without it," he said, smiling at Raven._

_Raven nodded, and then paused. Her eyebrows knit in concern and she pressed her fingers together._

"_Robin, there's something I need to ask you," she blurted, as Robin lay down on the hospital bed. "Earlier, I felt this spike of psychic energy. It was coming from this room, the medical bay. You were right there. Did you notice anything… different?"_

_Robin's back was against Raven, but she could see that he had frozen at her words. "Robin, you can tell me. I won't judge you. If it was anything that I could – "_

"_Raven, it was nothing. I didn't see anything except that Slade apparition. Just drop it," Robin said flatly. _

_When Raven quietened and involuntarily stepped back at his words, Robin realised that his tone came off a little harsh._

"_You don't need to worry anymore. Everything is fine," he said quietly. _

_Robin looked at Raven and gently placed his hand over hers. "We've had a long night. Read a book and go to bed. Weren't you in the middle of a really good fantasy? About some knight called Morchion?"_

"_His name's Malchior and he's a wizard, not a knight," Raven corrected. Rolling her eyes, she walked to the door._

_She was about to leave when she hesitated._

"_Robin, if you ever need to talk, you know where my room is. Remember that, okay?"_

Robin grimaced at the memory. He had lied to Raven; he did notice something _different_ last night, something other than the hallucination of Slade. It was difficult to forget that echoing voice and the scorching firebird. The teen was nearly one hundred percent sure that Raven's "psychic energy" was the doing of the phoenix. The question was _why_? What did the psychic entity want and, more importantly, what did it _do_ to him?

One thing was certain: this was a complex matter, and Robin wasn't planning on troubling his friends with it. Something told Robin that the phoenix was dangerous. Not to be trifled with.

Robin stepped outside the medical bay. Maybe if he cleared his head with some fresh air, he could make some sort of headway on this phoenix mystery. Careful not to wake anyone, Robin tiptoed to his bedroom and picked out his standard red-and-green uniform. He quickly changed.

He slipped out to the garage. He was halfway out of the door when the lights switched on.

"It's a little early to be hunting criminals," said someone from behind him.

Robin wheeled around. Cyborg leaned his massive form against the doorframe, as he gave Robin a penetrating look.

"I thought you were asleep," said Robin.

"I woke up."

The two teens stood in awkward silence, which congealed like Arctic ice.

"Starfire was worried about you yesterday. When you disappeared, she wasn't herself," Cyborg said finally. "I don't wanna know what she would have done if you offed yourself, even accidentally."

Robin bit his lip.

Then, he said, "Are you going to stop me from leaving?"

Cyborg fixed Robin with a scrutinising look, as though the Boy Wonder was an insect on a pin. After a silent moment, the dark-skinned teen fished out a pair of keys and threw them at Robin. The Boy Teen caught them, a little surprised.

"Don't use the T-Car's hover jets and if you press the green button, you can break the sound barrier," Cyborg said.

Robin stared at the keys, recognising that they were the keys to Cyborg's beloved T-Car.

"Why?" he asked.

"You've always wanted to take my baby out for a spin, so here's your chance," answered Cyborg, folding his arms. He turned around.

"Bring it back before noon, and don't dent it. If anyone else asks you where you got the car, I never saw you."

Robin grinned and hopped into the T-Car. When he put in the keys, the engine roared to life and the dashboard's computer flickered on. Sure, he had the R-Cycle, but the T-car was special. It had a certain appeal and mystique, like the Batmobile.

"Cyborg, I owe you one," Robin said.

Cyborg didn't respond. Only when the T-Car accelerated and left the Titans Tower did the cybernetic teen open his mouth.

"Bust my car and I'll make you chew your own cape, Birdboy," he muttered.

**Downtown, Jump City**

An hour and a half later, the T-Car was cruising down the central hub of Jump City. Since it was not yet dawn, the streets were empty and quiet with only the hum of an occasional delivery truck. A few 24/7 convenience stores glimmered against the dark, while the dying moonlight danced upon the metal spires of the Durandal Communications Tower, a symbol of wealth and technological progress in Jump. It was a wonder how much Jump had changed since the Teen Titans came to town. Before, it was a small-time pool of paranoia, and now, even Durandal Communications Corp had wanted to invest in the city.

"Take that, Bruce," Robin muttered, smirking. "The Teen Titans can actually do something."

Robin typed something into the onboard keyboard. With a groan, the metallic top of the T-Car rolled down. Cyborg's inventions were top-notch and plain _awesome_.

Switching the car to autopilot, Robin leaned back into his seat, letting the summer wind caress his hair. Cyborg was right: Robin had always wanted to take the T-Car out. Not for a mission, but for a joy-ride. Although his R-Cycle was great, something about relaxing and letting a computer do the driving made Robin tick his boxes. The heated leather seats helped.

Now that he was alone, Robin's mind began to wander back to the events of last night. The phoenix had shown Robin his memories, all of his worst ones. It was like some kind of sick parade, exhibiting the darkest and most shameful parts of the boy behind the mask.

That wasn't the part that disturbed Robin, however. No, it was what the phoenix mentioned. A power like no other?

"_It will give you the strength to defeat Slade and prove yourself to this cruel world_," the voice had claimed._ "But you will live a different life. You will become a lonely avatar, in a different time, a different existence, a different providence."_

Robin had witnessed a wide variety of metahuman powers during his career as a cape. He had seen Superman use his fantastic strength to lift a sodding concrete bridge, as though it was cotton candy. The Flash had created a miniature tornado by simply running, Poison Ivy had made green mulch out of greedy businessmen, and the Martian Manhunter had phased through metal as a carving knife would slice through butter. Even amongst the Teen Titans, Robin had watched Raven levitate trucks and Starfire destroy walls by merely _sneezing_. But why did the firebird's claim sow a little trepidation in Robin's stomach? None of those powers made their users _lonely_, did they?

"Okay, maybe Raven's powers make her lonely. But that's more of a personal choice," Robin muttered to himself. "Me and the rest of the Titans would never abandon Raven willingly. What the voice offered seems like it'll _force_ me to become lonely, whether I like it or not."

As the T-car decelerated for a traffic light, Robin shrugged. There was nothing to fuss over. It was still possible that he had dreamt the entire event, and even if he didn't, he had always wanted superpowers. He never told Batman this, because he knew that the Dark Knight labelled such aspirations as foolish and pointless. Bruce, having no superpowers of his own except what Robin called "super-obsession", always said that relying on metahuman abilities made you lazy.

Robin snorted. No wonder Batman had more than one tiff to pick with Superman.

Of course, Batman was entitled to his own opinion and becoming a superhero without the "magic" had its perks. But superpowers would _definitely_ make Robin's life easier. Flying like Starfire instead of depending on rocket boosters, or slamming criminals with telekinesis like Raven instead of using birdarangs. Even shape shifting like Beast Boy would be infinitely better than falling off a building and relying on Starfire to catch him. The embarrassment still burned on Robin's face, like a sweltering slap mark.

Wouldn't be great if he could catch Starfire and be the hero, instead of the other way around?

"It doesn't matter. It's not like I actually have superpowers," said Robin, weary.

He stared at Jump City as it whirled past him and the T-Car. "I probably hallucinated the whole thing. Go figure."

Robin stopped down the T-Car and took time to stare at the skyline. A trickle of sunlight was starting to seep in the distance, painting Jump City in a darkened orange swathe. It was nice to just relax and watch the horizon. Calming, definitely. Therapeutic, almost. Leaning back, Robin closed his eyes…

_Help! Somebody, anybody! Please! Somebody help me!_

Robin bolted up, gasping and clutching the wheel. A telepathic voice echoed in his head, like a gong. Judging from the tone, it was female and young, probably around Robin's age. And hysteric. There was an undercurrent of genuine fear, oozing as dark and thick as congealed blood.

"How am I hearing this? I'm not crazy, am I?" Robin whispered to himself. His eyes widened. "Could it be?"

_Oh God, I don't want to die here,_ the voice cried out again. _Please, someone! Help!_

There was no more time to think. Robin didn't hesitate. If what he thought was happening was actually real, then this girl's life was in danger. And he was jeopardising it for every minute he was wasting away.

Shoving the T-Car back into ignition, Robin stepped into the pedal. The car quickly accelerated. He needed to find the girl, and fast. But how was he supposed to do that? His only lead was a telepathic voice that may or may not have been a figment of his imagination. What would the other Titans do?

Better yet, what would _Batman_ do?

Funnily enough, the answer came to Robin without resistance or struggle. If Batman had only one lead, he would simply dissect and analyse everything about it until all that was left was a husk. What was there about the voice? Anything special?

Closing his eyes, Robin concentrated. Immediately, he could hear the girl's hysteria, her thoughts jumbled and garbled, like a voice through a radio's background static. The telepathic broadcast was strong… but stronger when Robin leaned his head against the window. To the left?

"Let's see where this takes me," Robin said, steering the wheel.

The T-Car screeched as it veered to the left, swerving off the main highway and into a smaller and creepier lane. Robin followed the sound of the voice in his mind. It was getting louder. He knew that he was on the right track. Despite the extremity of the situation, Robin couldn't help but feel a stab of excitement, tempered with fear. Was he really gaining psychic powers? If he was right, then the girl was real and Robin was in for a fight. His grip on the wheel tightened and his whole body tingled with the anticipation of a knife or a bullet in his back.

The lane ended with a jarring halt, segueing into a grimy alleyway that was barely wide enough for pedestrian access. But Robin saw the sight that confirmed his suspicions.

A teenage girl, aged around fifteen or so, was writhing against the death-grip of a bespectacled man in a trench-coat. Standing tall with bulging muscles, the man tried to force the girl into an unmarked van parked on the side of the road.

The man pushed a gun against the terrified girl's back. "Get in the van, kid. Before I lose it."

"If this is about money, my papa can pay you double of whatever you want," said the girl. Her bottom lip wobbled. "Please, Mister, let me go!"

"_I_ don't want your blood money. Just shut your trap, or else I'll duct-tape it for you," the thug snarled. The girl's horrified face reflected off his glasses.

Irate, the man flexed his right arm, which was around the size of a ham, and seized the girl by the shoulders. When she wailed and dragged her feet against the pavement, the man slapped her across the cheek.

"If you don't get into the van right now, I'll get a pair of pliers and – "

" – And what? I dare you to finish the end of that sentence."

Robin stood on the bonnet of the T-Car, which he had just parked and exited. His bo-staff was already extended in his hands.

"The leader of the Teen Titans shows his face. Great, another problem to deal with," the man growled. He pushed the whimpering girl to the floor and fished out a .22 pistol.

Robin had only seconds to react. Leaping forward, he swung the bo-staff at the man's kneecaps, as the man pulled the trigger. Robin tensed when he felt the bullet brush past his cheek, clipping his hair. A few black strands fell to the floor, like darkened snow. The thug, apparently more nimble than his gigantic frame suggested, sidestepped Robin's staff. Scowling, the man raised the gun and aimed it again at Robin.

"I need to remove that gun," Robin muttered; his eyes narrowed under the domino mask.

The gun fired, and Robin somersaulted out of its path. The main advantage the boy had over the thug was speed. It was time to exploit it. Robin jumped. Showing an agility only known to gymnasts, he darted forward and, when he was close enough to the man, coiled his body and struck out. The back kick, one of the strongest kicks in Taekwondo, slammed into the thug. Gasping in surprise, the man hurriedly parried the blow. But, in his haste, he had dropped the gun.

Robin stabbed the pistol with his bo-staff and kicked it away from the man.

Shaking with barely contained rage, the bespectacled man whipped out a switchblade and lunged at Robin. Pushing his metal staff upwards, Robin blocked the knife and redirected the man's momentum with a swift swing. The strike sent the thug's body into the pavement, face first; the switchblade fell out of his hands. However, the man was tenacious. Twisting backwards, he thrust his legs in a whooshing butterfly kick. Robin instinctively pulled back, but the kick missed his chest by a millimetre.

"That was close, but I'm stopping you right there," Robin said, spinning the bo-staff between his fingers.

Spitting out a glob of blood, the man picked up the switchblade. After a minute of circling, he attacked in a flurry of swipes and slices. Robin twirled the bo-staff, blocking the first few jabs, but a stray axe-kick knocked the weapon out of the teen's hands. But Robin wasn't fazed at all. When the man leaned forward in a powerhouse kick, Robin spun around and grabbed the man's neck. In a wrestling move famed in the martial art Muay Thai, the boy grappled the man with a straight cinch. A heavy uppercut into the man's face sealed the deal. Moaning in pain, the thug collapsed on the floor. Robin picked up the switchblade, which lay at his feet, and confiscated it.

"Game over," Robin said coolly. He picked up the bo-staff and twirled it like a baton. "I've beaten you from top to bottom. You should just give it up."

The thug clasped his bruised face in pain; it appeared that Robin had broken his nose. The lenses of the man's glasses had cracked. As Robin increased his grip on the bo-staff, the man twitched and crouched over the floor.

"It's not over until the Fat Lady sings," the man said. He smirked. "Or in this case, until the little tramp screams."

Then it dawned upon Robin; the man wasn't twitching, he was fumbling inside his trench-coat. For a weapon. Panic shooting up his spine, the teen swung his staff at the man. He was too slow. The strike met empty air, as the man leapt sideways and grabbed a stocking-clad ankle. The girl, who had been trying to crawl away from the fight, screamed. Robin, conscious of the girl's safety, dropped the bo-staff and instead, tried to loosen the man's grip with a flying roundhouse kick.

But Robin's reaction was too late: as his foot spurted towards the man, the thug wrenched the girl in front of him, tossing her as though she was a toy – or a human shield. When the blow connected with the girl's right arm, releasing an ominous cracking sound that one normally associated with eggs, the girl gasped and choked. Robin felt his eyes widen.

Clasping the girl's uninjured other arm, the thug guided a something small and silvery to the girl's neck. It was a switchblade. He must have hidden another one in his trenchcoat; that was what he was fumbling for. Instinctively, Robin grabbed his bo-staff.

"Drop the staff, boy," the man said, pressing the knife against the whimpering girl. "And the utility belt too. I don't even want to know what kind of nasty surprises you have in there."

Robin gritted his teeth. For one wild moment, he considered throwing one of his smoke pellets to the ground and using the resultant chaos to knock the switchblade out of the man's hand. But the girl! The teen didn't want to risk hurting her. It was bad enough that he had broken her arm…

The girl started to hyperventilate when the man pushed the knife in her neck, drawing blood. Her thoughts screamed out, ringing in Robin's ears: _Please, God, make the boy listen to the man. I can't breathe, oh God. Please make him listen!_

"Damnit, damnit," Robin swore, clenching his fists.

"Hurry up, boy! Her neck can't take any more stress," the thug snapped.

With great reluctance, Robin placed his bo-staff on the floor. His fingers felt numb, as though they had been dunked in ice water, as he slowly unbuckled his belt. He dropped it next to the staff. When the man gave him an unsatisfied stare, Robin kicked the staff and belt towards the thug.

The thug smirked and threw the staff and the utility belt into the van, away from Robin's reach.

"I've done what you asked. Now let her go," Robin said hotly.

"You must be mistaken. I never said I'd release the girl."

Behind his half-moon spectacles, the man's dark eyes glimmered.

"She's very wanted in Bludhaven, and I have no intention of relinquishing my hard-earned prize," the man said, stroking the girl's cheek. "I had to come all the way to Jump for her. But wouldn't you say that it was worth it? Doesn't she have the loveliest face?"

Despite his horrible predicament, Robin blushed. The girl _was_ very pretty, with a sharp, tapered face and wavy black hair that cascaded in soft tresses, like a dainty brook. The effect was ruined, however, by the knife that was pressed against her neck.

"However, she does nothing to tickle my fancy. I don't play for that team, if you catch my meaning," the man said, taking his hand away from her cheek. The girl snivelled.

When the bespectacled thug turned his gaze on Robin, the boy shivered. "You, on the other hand… tick all my boxes. Yes, I've watched the Boy Wonder since he was just a kid in Gotham."

"Who knew that I would have Batman's little jailbait at my mercy?" the man said. He gave a cold smile, revealing his sharp incisors. "I've always wondered how red your blood is."

Robin flushed. "You're sick. People like you shouldn't be around kids."

"You're right: I am sick. In fact, I'll show you how sick I can get," the thug hissed. He cracked his neck. "I do have somewhere else to be right now, but it can't hurt to mess around with you for a bit first."

He gestured at Robin. "Kneel and lick my boot."

"What? No way in hell!"

"Do it, or else I'll get dicey with the girl," the bespectacled man barked. "Every second you hesitate, the more my knife sinks in."

As proof, he forced the switchblade close to the jugular vein, applying almost enough pressure to draw blood. Robin watched the girl's pretty, hazel eyes water in pain.

Robin trembled. This was all his fault. Batman would berate him for his carelessness, for lowering his guard. He should have assumed that the thug had another weapon up his sleeve. Even though the fight was going well, he shouldn't have assumed. Moreover, he should have been keeping an eye on the girl! She got dragged into this. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have broken her arm and she wouldn't be bleeding. The man had only stabbed her to coerce Robin. His own stupid arrogance and foolishness…

"Get on your knees, boy! Now!" the thug said again.

Flinching, Robin lowered himself on the ground. He needed a plan, and now. What did he have in his arsenal? There were two birdarangs hidden in his boots; he could pin the man's arms to the wall, or slice the kneecaps. But it wouldn't be fast enough: the man would amputate the girl's right hand before Robin could even reach the birdarang. Alternatively, under his shirt, the teen had a grappling gun strapped to his back. What can a grappling gun do, though? Sure, he could escape, but the girl would still be in the arms of that thug.

Was there really nothing he could do?

"Get your head right into it, kid," the man said, pulling Robin by the hair. He shoved the teen down, face first into his shoes. "Start licking."

White-hot humiliation flooded Robin, searing the boy's nerves. His parents taught him to always stand up for himself, never to throw away his pride. _No!_ He wasn't going to lose to some nobody thug. He was Robin, Boy Wonder and Leader of the Teen Titans. He would _never_ lick someone's shoe. There had to be another way…

And there was.

"_The firebird's gift."_

And then, Robin searched himself and tapped into the deeper accesses of his mind. The psionic energy pulsed, like a heartbeat. Channelling the righteous anger, the energy ignited into a plume of psychic fire. The cogs turned, with the wheels of time.

"_A power like no other. The power of the Phoenix."_

Growling, the thug pressed his foot against the teen's face. "Birdboy! Didn't you hear me? Lick my foot!"

"No."

Robin stood up, bringing himself to his full height. Two orange sigils appeared in the eyes under the domino mask. He allowed the power, such raw and unbridled power that he now knew was telepathic, to flood his body. The blazing flux of psychic energy was exhilarating, almost addictive. The temperature of the alleyway began to heat up. Tensing, the thug increased his grip on the girl.

"You won't hurt any more children," Robin growled. The scorched image of a phoenix raptor burned his sight, like an afterimage from flash photography.

"_Sleep and bother us no more_!" he commanded.

There was a seething burst of uncontained psychic energy, and the thug collapsed on the floor, the tension and vigour slipping out of his limbs. The half-moon spectacles broke into crystalline rain upon the pavement, as the man lost consciousness.

Gasping, Robin fell down and leaned against the wall. Did he really… do that?

The sound of sobbing echoed from behind Robin, bringing his attention to the fact that he wasn't alone. He pulled himself off the ground and walked over to the girl. She was clutching her broken arm and gaping at the comatose figure of the man. Her expression was one of shock, intermingled with horror.

"How are you feeling?" Robin asked the girl.

She didn't respond. Numbly, she licked her lips and shuddered.

Squashing a twinge of guilt, Robin steadied his resolve and turned away from the girl. First things first. He leaned down and placed two fingers under the fallen man's neck. Although it was weak, there was still a pulse. Good. The man wasn't dead. Robin let out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. Even though the thug was a nasty piece of work, he didn't want to kill the man. He wasn't raised a murderer.

Robin headed to the van. After a moment of rummaging, he managed to find his belongings. He picked up his utility belt and clasped it around his waist. Gripping his bo-staff, Robin felt a small flutter of warmth in his stomach. His weapons comforted him, he realised, made him feel safe. Not having them around was like missing one of his limbs.

"H-How could you do that? You didn't even move, but somehow you attacked that man."

Robin wheeled around at the sound of a soft, trilling voice. The girl was squeezing her good arm, creasing the cream-coloured sleeves of her expensive blazer. Chanel, Robin guessed.

"It should have been impossible, what you did," the girl said dully.

When the girl shot him a penetrating look, Robin reflexively took a step back.

"What… are you?" she demanded.

"I'm Robin, the leader of the Teen Titans," he answered.

He approached the girl and tried to help her to her feet, but she slapped away his hand. Her expression was inscrutable. Rebuffing Robin's help, she stood up.

"Y-You're different, I can see that much," she said, chewing her lip.

Her tone became darker. "I don't trust you."

"I don't expect you to," Robin replied, while he attempted to dispel the shock and uneasiness he felt at the girl's comment.

When the girl's eyes continued to linger on the unconscious man and his lolling tongue, Robin bit his lip. How the hell was he supposed to explain that? He wasn't ready to announce to the world that he was suddenly psychic, especially when he didn't know the extent of his powers – or how to control them properly.

_Think, Birdbrain!_ Robin thought heatedly. _A lie, a believable lie._

"I used a time-lapse drug," he said to the girl. She turned around. "My gloves contain a chemical reagent that can cause paralysis after a period of time. Does that answer your question?"

"A bit. But I still don't believe you."

Robin folded his arms. "Can I ask why?"

"Your story has holes. We both know that a time-lapse drug wouldn't do that," the girl said softly, as she straightened her pleated skirt.

She glanced at her broken arm and threw Robin an intense stare filled with such fear, awe, and hatred that he flinched. "And I don't like superheroes."

Robin felt a slight tremor in his left hand. The two teens stood in intense silence, encased with tension that bled like an infected wound.

Surprisingly, it was the girl who broke the quiet.

"You still saved me, for some reason," she murmured.

As she gazed at Robin's domino mask, the hardness in her expression abated. She touched his cheek with hesitancy, as though she almost expected his skin to scald her. Her eyes flashed with a powerful, enigmatic emotion.

Robin could only choke in surprise when the girl leaned upwards and kissed him on the lips.

"That's my way of saying 'thank you'," she said quietly, pulling away from Robin.

Numb with shock, Robin licked his lips. They tasted slippery and sweet, like strawberry shortcake. The girl's lip gloss. As the memory of the girl's lips replayed in his mind, Robin felt his cheeks blush and a strange heat permeate his body. He was confused. _What was with this girl? First, she says she hates superheroes. Then she kisses me? And why can't I stop blushing?_

Robin's train of thought was derailed when he heard the girl moan in pain. She was carrying her broken arm, which hung limply as though it was supported by only a string. The injury wasn't too serious, but it needed some immediate attention.

Robin walked to the boot of the T-Car and pulled out a picnic blanket. Tearing strips out of it, Robin fashioned a sling for the girl's arm. Even though he tried to be gentle, the girl winced.

"I'm sorry for hurting you," Robin murmured to the girl.

Tying the cloth around the back of her neck, he secured the sling. He sighed and examined the broken arm. "It's a transverse fracture, so you'll need to see a doctor as soon as possible. But if you can get a plaster cast today, it should heal without any problems."

The girl nodded.

Dawn began to break across the horizon, splashing the girl's face with shafts of golden sunlight. Through this illumination, Robin was able to fully scrutinise the girl. She was petite and small, a full head shorter than he was, but somehow, she didn't seem particularly feeble. Hazel eyes glimmered under thick, long eyelashes. Conditioned to perfection, dark hair was tied back with a red bow into a whippy ponytail. Willowy legs were clothed in black knee-stockings, while her expensive blazer and Gucci ballet flats suggested that she came from money.

When she licked her full, plump lips, Robin felt his face heating up again. He slapped himself in the cheek. What was he, some randy schoolboy? He didn't have time to deal with this nonsense.

"I'll give you a lift home," Robin offered, after shaking himself out of his stupor. "It's still early and it might be a little unsafe for you to travel alone."

When the girl's expression became uncertain, Robin said, "I have room in the T-Car. C'mon, this is the least I can do."

At first the girl didn't respond.

"Fine," she said finally, after a pause. "But I want you to call the police – and an ambulance for that man first."

"I was going to even if you didn't ask."

Frowning, the girl strode past Robin and seated herself next to the driver's seat. Robin froze when he realised that her skirt was hitching up a little, revealing polka-dot panties. Closing his eyes, he took a deep, calming breath.

_Clear your mind, purer thoughts,_ he chanted mentally. _Get your head back into gear. Wait another moment, and she'll notice the skirt…_

When he was certain that the girl had adjusted her clothes and the blush in his cheeks had receded, Robin got into the T-Car. As he turned the ignition, he glanced at his companion. He pursed his lips, unimpressed. The girl noticed his studying gaze.

"What? Is there something on my face?" she demanded.

Robin shook his head. "No. It's just that you haven't told me your name."

"Really? I thought I already did," the girl said, bewildered. Her hazel eyes flickered. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. I'll just tell you again."

The girl smiled. "My name is Catalina. Catalina Flores."

.

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-X-X-X-

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	4. Chapter Three: Discord's Discourse

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Teen Titans_, or anything you can recognise from the comics and television show.

**A/N:** Heeey, everyone! Thank you for your reviews, specifically** MovingPen**,** Renegade**,** Colette'sLloyd**,** Bebeee**,** KaliAnn**,** Totori **and** Koruyuha**! I'm glad that you guys liked Tarantula/Catalina's inclusion in this fic. I figured that if you want to screw with Robin's mind, you include her. She did a nasty job on poor Robin/Nightwing's mind, before that ordeal was over. I am putting a different spin on her than the comics, but I am trying to retain what I consider her core characteristics (unpredictability, grey morality, very forward-and-sensual). Hohoho, the combined presences of Catalina and Slade should drive Robin crazy.

Characterising Starfire is a little hard for me, primarily because she appears to have a contradictory personality at times. The ditz and the serious moral compass, the badass princess and innocence personified. Hell, her naivety even ping-pongs between episodes, even. But I'll try to stick to what I know about her. Tell me when you sense OOC, okay?

On Robin's blushing around Catalina, it's more purely physiological (at least at this point). He's a fifteen/sixteen year old boy; show him some skin, and you'll get him hooked for weeks. Especially if the boy in question is as sex-starved and repressed as Robin. ;P

Remember that Catalina kissed him twice and is more forward/suggestive than Starfire. If it makes you feel better, my OTP is usually RobStar.

Review and enjoy. I probably won't post the next chapter for another month; my finals are drawing near, like now. X.x;;

* * *

><p><strong>– CHAPTER THREE –<strong>

_Discord's Discourse_

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-X-X-X-

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**/Downtown, Jump City/**

**.**

With the grace and verve of an osprey, the T-Car hurtled against the backdrop of lustrous skyscrapers, towards the inner suburbs cocooned within the city's nucleus. Nestled in the driver's seat, Robin rolled down the T-Car's top. Warm fingers of sunlight tickled his neck, as daybreak unfurled over the horizon, like a glistening morning glory. While he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, the girl sitting next to him shielded her eyes. Her demeanour in general was hard to read.

"Is there anywhere in particular you want me to drop you off?" Robin asked, turning to the girl. When she didn't respond, Robin called out her name.

"Catalina?"

"Hn?"

"Your address. You still haven't told me," Robin said.

Without shifting her gaze from the window, Catalina arranged a few stray strands of her hair and answered, with a detached tone.

"4 Haney Street, Premiani," Catalina said. "It should be a few blocks from here."

"Haney Street? You live there?" Robin said charily.

His shoulders tensed and his fingers curled until the skin around his knuckles pulled white.

_You've _got_ to be kidding me._

Haney Street held some of Jump's historic penthouses, colonnaded titans which expanded outwards with Versailles-style windows and sandstone walls. Wealth wasn't the only thing atypical about Haney Street, though. Specifically, the street famously housed the official residences of the Mayor and the City Council. To live at Haney was analogous to admitting that you were an important resident of Jump. Someone who wouldn't be kidnapped for no apparent reason.

Catalina noticed Robin's uneasiness. Straightening her pleated skirt, she stared at her knees and then gave Robin a trenchant look.

"My papa works for the government, high enough that he's made a few enemies," she said, lowering her voice. "My family – we grew up in Bludhaven. We upset a lot of people there."

"That doesn't explain what you were doing wandering in an alleyway at five in the morning," retorted Robin. "Alone."

Catalina examined her fingernails. "I like taking walks before the sun rises."

"That's dangerous."

"It helps me sort through my thoughts."

Her hazel eyes became turbulent, like a storm at sea. "And not everyone likes having a bodyguard leering over their shoulder, controlling your every move."

Robin frowned at the disdainful emotion Catalina put into the words 'controlling'. Did this girl have a bone to pick? Who made her so embittered? The volatility with which her luminous hazel eyes switched from warmth to frostiness slightly unsettled Robin.

Eventually, the T-Car reached its destination. Robin gazed at the wrought-iron fence which enfolded Catalina's home. It contained impressive scrollwork, sprawling with blossomed arabesques and acanthus motifs which gleamed like silvery gossamer. The house itself was spacious and delicate, reminding Robin of a watercolour picture from one of those catalogues on heritage Victorian manors.

"We're here," said Robin.

While he turned off the ignition and walked around to the other side of the car, the girl squeezed her broken arm. Her expression darkened when Robin opened the car's door and offered her a hand. Rejecting his help, she pulled herself out of the car.

"It might be best if you go now. The guards can take care of things from here," Catalina said tersely.

She gestured at the uniforms standing either side of the gates. "Security is tight around here."

"Not tight enough, if a teenage girl can slip past them," Robin muttered under his breath.

The two teens stared at each other, as torrid hazel eyes clashed against the enigmatic whites of Robin's mask. Robin folded his arms, refusing to lose his footing against Catalina. However, the girl found another way to surprised him, yet again. Wearing a strange smile, she glided over to Robin and caressed his cheek. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she slowly placed her glossed lips over his. The boy jolted with surprise.

The greatest surprise, however, was when he didn't attempt to stop her. For some unfathomable reason, Robin felt his body seize and allow Catalina to kiss him once more. Why did he do nothing to stop the girl?

Did he secretly like this… _experience_?

When Catalina finally pulled away, Robin's face had reddened with embarrassment, excitement or a bizarre combination of both.

"You don't kiss girls often, do you?" said Catalina.

Shaking her head, she sashayed towards her house. "Use your tongue next time. You're not a dead fish."

"There's going to be a next time?"

Nonchalant, Catalina shrugged. Annoyed, Robin massaged his temple. What was with this girl? Couldn't she get his permission before kissing him?

When the girl had reached the gate, Robin remembered something and called out.

"I'll send Raven over to heal your arm later," he said firmly. "She can save you a lot of time."

Catalina paused. When she unfastened her red bow, long black tresses danced in the autumn wind. As her hair fanned around her head as a dark halo, she gave the impression of an unholy avenger. She didn't even look at Robin.

"Don't," she replied.

Her voice became cold, like a wintry breeze. "I'm sure heroes like you have better things to do."

And she entered her house without another word, leaving a bewildered Robin standing in the wake.

.

**/JLA Watchtower, Space/**

**.**

Two figures walked down a narrow corridor. The shorter of the two, a blond woman dressed in a black leotard and fishnet stockings, sighed loudly. Her companion, a tall man in a green hood, gripped his bow and stared resolutely ahead. The woman frowned.

"Do you have any idea why Superman is calling this meeting?" she asked.

Green Arrow shook his head. "No clue. It has to be important, though, since he's calling only a few members."

"Why not call the expanded league, unless you want to keep something a secret?" Black Canary pondered thoughtfully.

Green Arrow stroked his chin. This was a riddle. It was a significant enough a problem to involve heroes beyond the founding members, yet was enough of a secret to exclude the wider league? How peculiar.

In time the two heroes reached the end of the corridor. While Green Arrow brooded deep into his thoughts, Black Canary opened the door. Inside, a group of people were already jostling at the edges of the room. Wonder Woman chatted with the Flash, while Superman stood at the front of the crowd, looking a little uncomfortable. Even Batman was present, skulking in the dark shadows. Piqued with curiosity, Green Arrow and Black Canary drifted near the Green Lantern and took their seats.

Superman cleared his throat. "Your attention, please."

The crowd quietened.

"I understand that this meeting was a little sudden, but I have something urgent to discuss with you," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It worries me a little… a lot, actually."

Immediately, everyone stiffened at Superman's words. The Man of Steel was rarely worried about anything, at least when it did not concern his safety of his family – or of the world. The mood in the Watchtower became uneasy.

"I'll get someone who's more qualified to explain this to you," Superman said. He glanced at the wall behind him.

"J'onn? Are you ready?"

Black Canary flinched when Martian Manhunter suddenly materialised from the wall, as though he were appearing out of thin air.

"I will never get used to him doing that," she mumbled.

"Friends, a few nights ago I was visiting Star City with my protégée, Miss Martian," Martian Manhunter announced, stepping forward.

"As you might remember, there was a peculiar psychic disturbance in the metropolitan area, and I was tasked with investigating this strange phenomenon."

A few people nodded; Martian Manhunter continued. "Initially, my search in Star City was fruitless. Scans of the area revealed no psychic inductive substances, psycho-delve nexuses, or any other sources of telepathic distress."

"However – " the alien paused, creating a dramatic effect. " – I was proven wrong. Thirty minutes after my arrival in Star City, M'gann and I experienced a tremendous psychic backlash, which took the form of an incapacitating migraine. Ordinarily my telepathic defences would be more than surfeit for a mere headache, but this was different…"

Martian Manhunter breathed deeply. "Both M'gann and I were rendered unconscious for a period of twenty minutes."

The room devolved in chaos. Wonder Woman gasped while the Flash and the Green Lantern started yelling. Leaning against the wall, Batman's stare intensified. Green Arrow and Black Canary exchanged a meaningful look. J'onn was commonly considered the world's strongest telepath; for a psionic assault to disable him would signify the existence of an extremely powerful psychic. An enemy who could ruin all of them.

"That's not the worst of it," Superman interrupted. "J'onn told me that the telepath behind the psychic backlash perused through his memories."

He bit his lip. "All of them."

Shocked, Green Arrow clenched his fist around the bow. For the first time in a while, fear squeezed his chest, cinching his breathing. The Justice League had collected a multitude of secrets since its inception, and Martian Manhunter was privy to most of them. Such information, especially their identities, would shatter the League in the wrong hands.

And now, a dangerous, unknown telepath knew?

"Is this true?" whispered Wonder Woman.

"It's true," Martian Manhunter confirmed. "I felt the entity behind the psychic feedback inspect my mind and my recollections. Our secrets are no longer our own. However, there is more."

"What is it this time? The guy behind this is some all-powerful chicken from another dimension?" Flash said sarcastically.

When Superman pointedly stared at the floor, the speedster slapped his forehead. "You're kidding me."

"I would not call the entity a 'chicken' per se, but the entity took the form of a firebird with the most otherworldly aura," Martian Manhunter said.

His tone became grave. "I took the following days to analyse the entity's residual energies and have concluded that the assaulter is a cosmic being from another universe. I cannot match the firebird with any other entity in our database."

"J'onn and I think that the creature might have something to do with the Emotional Electromagnetic Spectrum, though," Superman said.

He glanced at Green Lantern, who frowned and clasped his Power Ring.

"I don't know what I can do, but I'll ask around," Green Lantern said. "The Corps might know something."

"That's a start. Does anyone have any other ideas?" Superman asked, scanning the room.

"A reconnaissance team."

Everyone wheeled around to the source of the gruff voice. Stepping out of the shadows, Batman scowled and fixed Superman with a hard stare.

"We create an elite team of two or three individuals, designed to tracking down this mystery, silently and swiftly," Batman said; the strength of his glare was not diluted by the cowl. "This team should be able to use force to apprehend the suspects, if necessary."

"Sounds more like a hit squad or an assassination contingent than a reconnaissance team," Flash muttered.

Batman didn't react visibly to the speedster's words. However, Black Canary noticed Batman's fists tighten, ever so slightly. The hostility within the room deepened, like an infected sore. Superman, who had never been comfortable with in-fighting, awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Flash, you shouldn't criticise Batman's suggestion like that. That was out of line," said Superman.

He returned his sight to Batman. "And Bruce, your solution sounds a little risky. Do you really think that a tracking team would be best?"

"It's vital that we locate and halt this entity, before it destroys us," Batman explained, narrowing his eyes. "It doesn't bode well that this telepath knows all of our secret identities."

Green Arrow winced. During the day, he masqueraded as Oliver Queen, an industrialist with political aspirations from Star City. If anyone ever realised the truth, then his political opponents would label him a hypocrite and discredit his civic attempts to improve Star City from the inside.

"Ordinarily, the entire league should mobilise to counter this threat," Batman continued. "But we do not want to cause any more unnecessary panic than we already have."

His face tightened with steel. "Our adversaries can exploit this development. For now, a small team would have to be sufficient."

"Well, I think it's a good idea," Green Lantern said.

Martian Manhunter tilted his head towards Batman, approving. "I concur. Our resources are already quite limited, so a quiet and economical plan such as Batman's would be expedient."

Squeezing Green Arrow's arm, Black Canary watched the rest of the Justice League. Aquaman was murmuring something in Wonder Woman's ear. The Atlantean would have some quibbles with the idea of a covert hit squad, given his more honourable personality. Murmuring trickled through the crowd.

"We'll take a vote," said Superman, assuming an authoritative manner. "Those in favour of Batman's plan, raise your hand."

Black Canary flicked her gaze towards the crowd. Many people had raised their hands –Batman, Green Lantern and Martian Manhunter. Even the Flash's hand was reluctantly in the air. Taking a quick tally, Black Canary realised that more than half had sided with Batman's plan. Green Arrow raised his own hand. After catching his probing gaze, Black Canary joined him.

"And those in favour of another plan?" Superman said.

Aquaman raised his hand, and so did a few others. To everyone's astonishment, Wonder Woman was one of the heroes against Batman's plan. When Superman arched his eyebrows in surprise, Wonder Woman bit her lip and avoided Batman's stare.

"I'm sorry Batman, but don't you think there's a more honourable way?" she asked.

Batman remained silent. After counting the number of raised hands, Superman said, "Very well. We're creating a tracking team."

He turned to Batman. "Do you have any idea of who should be on the team?"

"I have the greatest experience with espionage and concealment, so I would like to lead the team," Batman said evenly. He glanced around. "Also, the Martian Manhunter, because he would be able to identify and locate the culprit based off the creature's residual psychic impressions."

Superman crossed his arms. "And the third spot?"

"An appropriate volunteer."

"I'll do it," Green Lantern said, as everyone swivelled around. "My own investigation might overlap a lot with this tracking mission, so let's just hit two birds with one stone."

"I have no problem with that line-up," Batman said.

"Does anyone have any issues with the suggested team?" Superman asked the group.

Nobody said anything, although Wonder Woman shuffled her feet. The Flash gritted his teeth, while Green Arrow and Black Canary intertwined their hands.

"It's done," Batman growled.

Underneath the cowl, his eyes glimmered with dark determination. "We will find this cosmic telepath and end it – in the name of the Justice League."

.

**/Titans Tower, Jump City/**

.

Robin knocked on the bedroom door. A moment later, Raven emerged. Her face was skewed in a displeased scowl, as though he had bothered her in the middle of something important.

"What is it?" she growled.

"When we got home, you ran to your room and locked the door," Robin said gently. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Responding with a brusque "no", Raven slammed the door in Robin's face. The boy blinked and massaged his temple, as confusion mingled with surprise.

"I don't understand girls," he said, weary.

Shaking his head, he headed towards the lounge, where the other Titans were waiting, relaxing after a long day of fighting crime.

A week had passed since the Dust episode and Robin's first contact with the phoenix. After returning Catalina Flores to her home, Robin wandered around Jump City before returning to the T-Tower. He tested the limits of his new powers, experimented with his psychic potential. Closing his eyes, Robin had tried to sense other people's thoughts and emotions, as he did the first time when Catalina was in trouble. To his disappointment, he could not extract even the most insignificant thoughts; mind delves were out of his reach for now, it seemed. Perhaps he could only read minds which were under great duress. All was not lost, though. Three days into his experimentation, Robin discovered that he could gather raw, psychic energy from within his mind and discharge it as some sort of transparent beam. These beams, which he called "Psionic bolts" after watching Starfire, had the power to render its victims unconscious for at least an hour. The teen knew this fact very well, since he discerned it after accidentally knocking himself out with a reflected Psionic bolt.

When Starfire found him, she thought that he had collapsed from over-exercising and locked away all his gym gear. It took hours of convincing before she relented.

At any rate, Robin concluded his experimentations and resumed his old schedule of crime fighting. Day in, day out. Defeat Doctor Light, Cinderblock or some other run-the-mill villain. Currently, the Teen Titans had finished battling Kardiak, a monstrous machine which took the form of a giant heart. Robin attributed their victory to Raven. However, the girl was behaving rather weirdly and was avoiding the other Titans, for some reason.

Robin entered the lounge and sat himself next to Beast Boy.

The shapeshifter was arguing with Cyborg again. He shoved a plate of spiced tofu in the dark-skinned teen's face.

"Dude, what's wrong with Tofu Bolognaise?" Beast Boy said, as Cyborg pushed away the vegetarian dish. "You told me you hated my Chinese-style tofu yesterday, so I made it Italian for you!"

"Chinese, Italian – it could be Zimbabwean for all I care, I'm not eatin' that soya junk!" said Cyborg.

"Why? It's tasty and finger-licking good! It's just as good as meat."

"But it's not meat!" said Cyborg, waving his hands. "Pour all tomato paste you want on it. At the end of the day, it's still processed bean paste."

"Guys, have you seen Starfire?" Robin interrupted, trying to stop the fight before it got out of hand.

"She's gone to the mall. Said something about braiding manoeuvres for her scalp," replied Beast Boy.

"Braiding manoeuvres? What the hell is a braiding manoeuvre?" asked Cyborg incredulously.

"What Star means is that she's visiting a salon to get her hair curled," Robin said. He plopped a bit of Beast Boy's tofu into his mouth and chewed. Although it was sticky and waxy in texture, the tofu had a surprisingly sweet taste, reminding the teen of Alfred's homemade pasta. Robin swallowed and glanced at Beast Boy.

"Hey, this isn't half bad."

Grinning widely, the shapeshifter jumped to his feet and pointed at Cyborg. "Aha! Even Robin thinks it's good."

"Robin says Starfire's Casserole of Beatitude tastes good," Cyborg said in a dismissing tone. "It's called havin' manners."

As Cyborg and Beast Boy resumed their debate on tofu, Robin took a deep breath and opened his palms. An almost imperceptible flicker of psychic energy gathered on his fingertips. He grinned. The ability to channel his Psionic bolts was becoming easier. _With more practice, I'd be able to summon them without even blinking._

When Starfire stepped into the room, Robin hastily dispelled the telepathic energy. The phoenix sigils disappeared from his eyes.

"Starfire, how was the mall?" he asked.

Dejected, the alien girl dropped onto the couch facing Robin. She pulled out a few curlers out of her orange hair, which was bulging precariously like an overripe mango.

"It was very enlightening. Earth has the most wondrous tools for embellishing hair, such as irons of curling," Starfire said.

She toyed with a strand of her hair. "Moreover, a pleasantly large woman even asked me if I wanted to become one with her. It was quite fascinating."

Grimacing, Robin made a mental note to teach Starfire about talking to strangers. Especially ones with _those_ motivations.

"Why do you look so down, then?"

"Raven. She refuses to talk to me, or partake in our usual leisurely activities," Starfire answered, hugging a cushion.

Beast Boy contributed to the conversation: "I noticed that too. Who pissed in her cereal?" His voice became softer, tender. "I'm getting a little worried for her."

Robin knelt on the hearthrug. He didn't know what was happening to Raven, but he was smart enough to notice that lately she had been holed up in her room, eschewing all social contact. The girl had always been on the quiet side, associating more with her occult figurines than with other humans. However, she still talked to her friends. Before, Raven had at least said a small "hello" to Starfire and made a snarky remark about Beast Boy. Now, she did nothing but read a dusty tome all day.

"If we could get her out of her room, I'm sure she'll return to normal," Robin told Beast Boy. "She just needs some fresh air."

"Really? You think so?" Beast Boy piped.

"Positive."

"That's great, then!" Beast Boy exclaimed, grinning widely. "'Cause I know a way to get her out of that broom closet of hers."

Cyborg blinked. "You do?"

"Yep. You remember Stenchit, right? That game we invented a while ago?"

"How could anyone _forget_ it?" Robin muttered to Starfire. "I couldn't get that weird banana smell out of my cape for days."

While the alien girl giggled, Cyborg answered Beast Boy's question with an affirmative. Buoyantly, the changeling explained his plan to replace a few elements of Stenchit with imports from croquet to create a new sport called Stankball. Apparently, this game was so "awesomely fun" that Raven would not be able to resist refereeing for Beast Boy and Cyborg.

"Hence, she'll have to leave her cave and voila! She's cool again," said Beast Boy.

Cyborg hopped off the couch. His human eye glinted with mirth and mischief, as he gestured at Beast Boy.

"C'mon, I have a pile of unwashed socks in my room. If I scrunch them together, we can create a Stankball and drop by Raven's room."

Gleefully, the two boys left the room, discussing how many socks to pack into their Stankball.

"Do you believe that Beast Boy's plan will work?" Starfire asked, leaning on Robin.

"Probably not, but it's worth a shot."

Starfire lay down on the couch, placing her head on Robin's lap. Recovering from his initial surprise, the boy faltered and stroked the girl's hair. It was soft and pliant, reminding Robin of spun silk… and of Catalina's own tresses.

There was no use denying it: more than once had Robin's mind drifted back to the dark-haired girl. Her attitude both confused and intrigued him. His Bat-honed detective senses told him that Catalina had more than one issue with the superhero community. She couldn't be good news, at least to a cape like him. But she had him in her thrall, like a spider with its web. A tarantula with its prey.

"Robin, what do I represent to you?"

Starfire's soft voice brought Robin out of his ponderings. Tracing random patterns on his arm, she directed her protuberant, green eyes at him. Curiosity glimmered, diluted with a little sadness.

"What do you mean, Starfire?" said Robin quietly. "You're my best friend. You represent a lot of stuff to me."

"Lately, ever since the incident with Slade's dust, I feel like you do not trust me," said Starfire, casting her eyes downward. "You have distancing yourself from me, hiding secrets… Perhaps I am not worthy of your trust."

A lump formed in Robin's throat. He had been hiding the Phoenix's secret from Starfire, among other things. But was his behaviour alienating Starfire? _Starfire thinks I don't… trust her?_ His heart felt too big for his chest, as it hammered against his ribcage.

"Do you know what you represent to me, Star?" Robin said in a gentle tone. He touched her hand. "You represent silly childishness, doe-eyed naivety, impossible kindness… and everything I can't be."

When Starfire's eyes widened, Robin lowered his voice. "Listen, never let anyone tell you that you're not worthy of my trust, even me. Because if they say that, they're lying."

"Why do you hide from me, then?" asked Starfire. She breathed deeply. "I am not stupid, Robin. I respect that you need your space, but this secrecy is so sudden."

The girl bit her lip. "Have I offended you in some way? Because if it is my Tamaranean cooking, I will try harder to adopt Earthly customs and – "

"Star, it's nothing like that," Robin reassured. "It has nothing to do with you."

His tone became softer, as he lowered his gaze. "It's my fault – something's happened recently, and I need to deal with it alone. I'm not ready to involve anyone."

_Not yet,_ Robin added mentally. _At least until I can control these powers a little better. Know what I am capable of. _

"I understand."

Robin gawked. Starfire lifted her head from his lap and adjusted the hem of the couch. Hope filtered through her gaze, which glinted with ill-concealed emotion.

"You are not ready to share, but you are a good person. I trust your judgment," she said lightly, lifting her eyes. "You will know when the time is right. And I will be waiting when that time comes."

Robin felt a rush of affection for Starfire, like an ocean's wave. Her faith in him had required nothing from him, yet he couldn't do the same for her? What did Starfire mean to him? The Boy Wonder gazed at the girl's face and was amazed by how easily he could read her expression. Happiness, sorrow, loyalty – it all skittered over her face, like a streaking comet. Tamaraneans drew their powers from passion; subterfuge and repression did not bode well with them.

_Starfire and Catalina._ Robin realised how different the two girls were. How he could not understand the thoughts behind Catalina's steely stare, yet he could read Starfire's expressions with such depth. How one trusted him, while the other harboured ambivalent doubt.

"You're too nice," he muttered.

Starfire cocked her head, questioningly. For the first time that day, Robin smiled.

"I think it is time for lunch," declared Starfire.

Enthusiastic, she clapped her hands together. "Perhaps I shall prepare a Casserole of Beatitude! I did collect some tinea spores and dandruff flakes yesterday. They should help stew the tangerines for the eggplant broth."

Robin groaned.

.

**/?*?, Bludhaven/**

**.**

"I had to pull a number of strings to rescue you," the bald man growled. "You were supposed to kidnap the girl. It was a simple job."

Dudley Soames cradled his arm and glanced at the irate man. "Give me some credit. I managed to study the little rich girl's habits long enough to figure out she takes unaccompanied walks at daybreak. For a moment, I even captured her."

"For a moment," said the bald man. He scowled. "_Only_ for a moment."

The two men were residing in a subterranean room somewhere in Bludhaven. Soames hazarded that they were perhaps under Devin's Corner, since that area had recently become a favourite of Bludhaven's crime lords. Crime lords, such as his contractor standing in front of him. The bald kingpin was a relatively late addition to Bludhaven's underground. However, within a matter of months, the man had managed to usurp Angel Marin and become the city's boss of crime. His cunning was surpassed only by his ruthlessness. Indeed, many told Soames that the man made a deal with the devil, that he had the taint of Hell.

Soames knew that these claims were probably whisperings of idle gossip. But looking at the fuming man now, he was beginning to see where the rumours started.

"You just had to grab the girl and leave. Quick and quiet," said the man lividly. "We were meant to ransom her for cash. We wouldn't even need to hurt her, since that dratted father of hers is too besotted by his daughter to abandon her."

He lifted Soames by the front of his shirt. "Very easy money."

"It's not my fault, Blockbuster. Everything was moving along nicely, before Robin interfered," Soames said coldly.

"Robin? The Boy Blunder. I was wondering when you'd mention him," said Blockbuster, the bald crime-lord.

Narrowing his eyes, Blockbuster tossed Soames into a rusty metal chair. "Explain to me how a baseline human – a well trained baseline, but a baseline nevertheless – supposedly utilised _telepathy_ to knock you out. He's a boy, Soames, not the Martian Manhunter. My information says that Robin possesses no metahuman abilities."

"Ignore me if you want, but I saw what I saw," Soames replied, as Blockbuster paced the room. "One moment I was holding a knife against Flores's throat, the next moment I'm waking up in a hospital."

"Are you saying the boy used some sort of psychic discharge on you?" Blockbuster asked.

"He must have. Not even the Flash could've reacted that fast."

"Interesting… A new enemy emerges," Blockbuster muttered to himself.

Soames adjusted his glasses and glanced at mobster. "So what now?"

"Easy. You will return to Jump and reattempt to capture the girl," said Blockbuster, as he began formulating plans in his head.

His lips twisted in a cruel smirk. "Meanwhile, I plan my revenge against our newest little psychic."

.

**/Titans Tower, Jump City/**

**.**

Robin could not sleep.

He was lying on his bed, staring vacantly at the grey ceiling. He pulled the blanket over himself and fluffed his pillow, but he couldn't fall asleep. His mind was buzzing with everything he had just witnessed.

Robin's shock was almost unfathomable: Raven's beloved fantasy book had actually contained a thousand year-old _dragon_, which was charming the gothic girl into freeing it. Indeed, Raven had inadvertently awoken Malchior the dread-dragon and unleashed it on the T-Tower. If Robin had known that the book was a draconian menace from Arthurian times, he would have torched Raven's library earlier. With a flamethrower. Because it had manipulated Raven's feelings. _Especially_ because it had manipulated Raven's feelings. Robin's anger only incensed when he remembered how Malchior had trounced the Teen Titans, at least until Raven arrived. If Raven didn't return Malchior to its book, Robin knew that Beast Boy could have been pulverised by draconic fire.

Robin tossed in his bed. Beast Boy's brush with death wasn't the most disturbing thing, though. When Raven was about to incant the spell to vanquish it, Malchior bellowed at the Teen Titans:

"_You fools!" roared Malchior "You attempt to crush me in the name of justice, yet you cannot even recognise an embodiment of evil and destruction when it breathes in front of you."_

_Gathering her magical energies, Raven glared at the dragon. "You're the only evil thing I can see."_

"_You are a fool, my sweet Raven," chortled Malchior. For one horrifying moment, Robin thought the dragon was staring right at him, as though it had understood his secret._

"_I'm not a fool. In fact, I'll show you a curse I just learnt," she said frostily. Unleashing her magic, she raised the book. "_Aldruon Enlenthra Nalthos Sola Narisnor!_"_

_Although Malchior shrieked in fury as it collapsed into Raven's book, the dragon had a strange smile on its hideous face, a smile which Robin knew was dedicated to him._

For the umpteenth time, Robin wondered if anyone else had picked up on Malchior's insinuations. Clearly, the foul dragon recognised the phoenix's gift, if those snide intimations were intentional. Robin was a little worried. Even though two weeks had now passed since the dust incident, he still had not mastered complete control over his Psionic bolts. Moreover, he was certain that there were a few latent talents from the phoenix which he had not yet realised, even after concluding his experiments. Until then, he could not afford involving his teammates in the phoenix conundrum. That firebird was a dangerous entity to bandy with.

Hence, he had refrained from sharing the secret with his friends. But he didn't want to deal with the aftermath of them finding out by themselves, which was possible now with Malchior's hints. It would be the Red X fiasco all over again.

Familiar with Malchior's oblique mannerisms, Raven had already caught onto some of the dragon's insinuations:

"_Robin, I learnt that even though I'm different, I'm not alone," murmured Raven, straightening her referee's uniform. In the distance, Beast Boy and Cyborg tossed the Stankball between them._

"_You're never alone, Raven. You have us, your friends," Robin replied._

"_I know. Beast Boy __told me that you don't have to stay locked in your room, because you will always have people who trust you," Raven said in a low, raspy voice. _

_She shot a dark look at Robin, who scratched his head. "I don't think you really understand that, Robin."_

_Patting the teen on the shoulder, Raven returned to refereeing and berated a sheepish Beast Boy for an illegal Stankball throw._

Robin rolled over and forced the side of his head into the pillow. Okay, his friends find out about the psychic phoenix which may or may not still be inside of him. Would that be the end of the world? At least Starfire wouldn't mind when she finds out, considering the trust she professed in him.

_But you know she won't exactly trust you that much when she finds out about Catalina,_ a sly, little voice said in his mind. _Even if you didn't give your consent, you still enjoyed those sudden kisses. You horn-dog. _

An image of Catalina's glossy lips flitted in his memory. Robin felt his cheeks blush again.

"I am _not_ dealing with this now," he muttered to himself, snuggling his blanket. "I'm going to get some sleep, whether I like it or not."

Robin slammed his eyes shut, trying to fall asleep. After cycling through some dozing techniques, such as counting sheep, the Boy Wonder finally felt his mind drift away and the pleasant duvet of dreams settled over his body –

.

.

.

.

.

– And suddenly, there was a disconcerting _lurch_. A wave of vertigo slammed into Robin, forcing his dinner up his throat in a nauseous whirl. Gasping, he opened his eyes.

His surroundings had completely changed. The familiar ceiling of the Titans Tower had vanished, as did his bedroom walls. Instead, Robin gazed into a lush forest, adorned with mangroves and murky rivers. A putrid stench wafted from the wetland, like an infected ulcer. More disturbingly, there was the sound of distant gunfire.

Robin made a step forward. His feet dragged from the mud.

"Is this real?" he wondered aloud, before dismissing that thought. Somehow, the Boy Wonder knew this was dream. The familiar floating sensation in his stomach, a common feature of his dreams, attested to that fact.

Plus not even magic could cause this drastic an effect.

Robin was wading through the sludgy rainforest water, when the dreamscape morphed again. The fertile forest disappeared, as a darkened compound materialised around the teen. A heart monitor beeped periodically, while a few nurses wheeled in trays of ominous needles and viscous I.V. packs.

"Hey! Hello!" Robin called out to the doctors and nurses hurrying around him. None of them noticed him; in fact, they acted as if he wasn't there.

"Hn."

Robin frowned. Most of the activity seemed to centralise around a dimly lit operating table, which was in the middle of the room. Because of the doctors' jostling figures, he couldn't see the table in its entirety, but he saw enough to glimpse the man strapped to it. He was a blond man with a broad chest. Tall, with strong arms.

Robin racked his brain. That build… Robin was so certain that he had seen that body from somewhere. In fact, if he didn't know better, he would say that the figure looked just like –

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Never have I imagined that I'd meet _you_ here."

Robin froze at the sound of that amused drawl. Fear clawed like a chainsaw, while he heard a loud thumping noise in his ears. _No, no, no._

In a horror movie moment, the teen slowly turned around and faced the source of the voice. He staggered backwards.

A tell-tale mask gleamed in the dismal light.

"My, my, Robin," Slade said lightly. "You don't look particularly happy to see me."

.

.

-X-X-X-

.

.


	5. Chapter Four: Interrogations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Teen Titans_, or anything you can recognise from the comics and television show.

**A/N:** Heeey, everyone! I know I said I wouldn't post a chapter for another month, because of my upcoming exams. In fact, I have an exam in three days. Yet, I couldn't resist the stupid writing bug and devoted time I should have been studying into this chapter. So please, make it worthwhile and **review**!

A lot happens in this chapter, and the plot begins to move forward! The first OC of this fic, Fidel Flores, also makes an appearance. _Finally_.

I squealed a little like a Bieber fangirl when I saw the **C2 recommendation**. _Firebird_, getting a C2 rec? I couldn't believe it. Thank you so much!

No chapter, _definitely_, for the next month. I really, **really** need to study for the exams. _**Seriously**_.

* * *

><p><strong>– CHAPTER FOUR –<strong>

_Interrogations_

.

-X-X-X-

.

**/The Compound, Dreamscape/**

**.**

Robin recoiled backwards, hitting a wall, as Slade stepped closer. The man's single good eye glinted through the slit in the mask; flexed arms folded across a broad, iron-clad chest. Robin's heart plunged with nausea. Slade chuckled, as though he was listening to a particularly good joke.

The overhead light flickered, and the only sound was the murmuring of the doctors at the operation table.

"You're looking healthy, Robin," said Slade, "Eating well, I see?"

Robin glanced at his surroundings. The walls on either side of him were damp with moss and lined with gurneys and strange machines, yellowed with age, which were tangled in a web of green and red wires. A range of plugs, cords and dials spilled outwards. To the right, a large medical chart bore the words: OMEGA PROJECT – SUBJECT X616. To the left, empty syringes and bloodied scalpels were arranged on a tray. Robin could also see a series of glass cabinets which contained… _something_. From where he was standing, it was hard to tell. However, one thing was certain: no exit was in sight.

No windows, no doors. Not even a ventilation shaft.

"Are you a ghost?" Robin said, narrowing his eyes.

"Perhaps, who knows?" Slade replied in a low tone.

Without shifting his gaze from the masked mercenary, Robin tried to gather a Psionic bolt in his hands. However, for unknown reasons, the telepathic energies resisted his summons. The familiar warmth of the phoenix refused to form. A stab of panic crawled up his spine.

_Okay, a new plan. _Slowly, Robin itched to his left. He ignored the muted throb of dread that was pulled on his insides.

"Aren't you meant to be dead? Terra betrayed you, she tossed you into lava. You _miscalculated_."

Robin stressed the last word, which he knew Slade would take as a personal insult. Slade had always prided himself on his well thought-out plans; the unexpected anomaly posed by Terra must have been a sore spot.

"Oh? If that is your way of riling me up, it's a rather poor attempt," said Slade coolly.

"I think Terra affected you more than you care to admit," Robin said. A smile curled the corners of his mouth. "Hate to break it you, Slade, but you _lost_. We won, and you died."

Mildly irritated, Slade snorted. "Still impetuous and childish as usual. How I've missed that juvenile sense of humour."

_C'mon, lose your calm and freak out,_ Robin thought mutinously.

If Slade saw red, for even a second, it would give Robin the opportunity to distract the man and gain the upper hand…

"How's hell treating you? Do they make your risotto the way you prefer?" said Robin, as his hand crawled more to the left. "You used to like it when Wintergreen sprinkled grated parmesan over yours."

"I see you haven't lost that wanton recklessness. Sometimes, you are irritatingly predictable," said Slade with a twinge of annoyance.

The man grew irritated; Robin grinned inwardly. Now was his chance.

"I'm not predictable enough to do this!"

And Robin seized a used scalpel and threw it at Slade. Scowling and a little surprised, the mercenary blocked the knife with his iron gauntlets. However, Robin exploited this opportunity to dart forward in a roundhouse kick. Slade spun backwards to parry, but stiffened when Robin's foot missed his face by a mere inch. The strike sent Slade's body into a wall. Robin didn't give Slade reprieve; he struck out with a savage uppercut which rushed with incredible speed. Slade had to cartwheel in a Capoeira move known as Aeriola to dodge Robin's fist.

"You've been practising," Slade said slowly.

"Every day, while you were decomposing," Robin snapped, throwing another punch.

Slade caught the fist and swung around, sending a palm towards Robin's chin. The teen sidestepped the blow, only to find a right hook slamming into his cheek. A spasm of pain surged through his face, as Robin felt Slade grapple his neck. With the force of a freight train, Slade smashed Robin's head into a computer. Upon impact, the monitor exploded into shards of plastic and metal with copper wires spraying everywhere like thin, brown blood. Robin doubled over, unable to help himself. His nose was bleeding; he could taste the blood.

"Evidently, you haven't been practising enough," said Slade softly.

Gasping, Robin tried to pull himself from the shattered remains of the computer. Judging from the pain throbbing up and down his arm, Slade must have fractured a few bones. _Still, I'm not finished yet_.

"Don't count your eggs before they hatch," Robin said defiantly.

Before Slade could respond, the teen grabbed the tray of syringes and flung it at the mercenary, like a discus at the Olympics. Slade backpedalled, allowing the projectiles to ricochet harmlessly into a glass cabinet. However, the man's good eye could only widen when Robin charged into Slade with the finesse of an African rhinoceros. Grabbing Slade's arm for leverage, Robin brought up his leg and kneed him in the solar plexus.

"Ugh," Slade choked out, stumbling backwards.

Wiping his mouth for blood, he growled. "Brat."

"I'm not a br – "

Slade cut off Robin with a fierce axe kick. Blocking the strike, Robin lifted his foot and countered with his own reverse-roundhouse. Blow met blow, as the two fighters glared at each other with intensifying ire. After a moment, Robin flattened himself against the floor to dodge a wayward swing from Slade. It was at this instant when he spotted one of the scalpels from before, laying only inches from his fingertips.

_This is it._ Lunging forward, Robin snatched it and brought it to Slade's face… only to find the razor-sharp end of a needle against his own neck. Slade tightened his grip around the used syringe, while Robin refused to lower the scalpel.

It was a draw. Damn.

"It seems we have reached an impasse," said Slade.

"It seems," Robin conceded reluctantly. He narrowed his eyes. "You won't stab me if I lower my arm?"

"I have nothing to gain if I do," Slade replied in a wary tone. "Besides, I believe it was you, Apprentice, who started the hostilities."

Robin sighed and slowly lowered the scalpel. "I guess. And don't call me your 'Apprentice'."

"I will call you what I want," said Slade, putting down the syringe. "You should know that, _Dick_."

Robin's throat parched. He said weakly, "Nobody calls me that."

"You ought to be more comfortable with your own name."

The two sat down on the floor, next to a rusted gurney. Refusing to meet Slade's eye, Robin fixed his gaze on a blotch on the wall. Slade smirked underneath his mask.

"Why aren't there any exits to this place?" Robin asked, after a pause. "Even better, where the hell are we?"

"My memory was rather hazy on the day of the injection, so I don't remember any windows or doors," said Slade.

He stroked his chin. "A good question would be how you, Robin, managed to penetrate my dreams."

"Your dreams? What are you say – "

"My bet is astral projection of some kind. Perhaps resulting from a wayward spell from Raven?" Slade continued, as though Robin was not even there. "Ordinarily, dream scrying is a telepathic talent, but since you possess no psychic abilities, that can't be the case."

When Robin flinched visibly at those words, Slade widened his eye. He slid closer to the teen, adding an almost predatory edge to his demeanour.

"_Oh_, this is too good. Robin the Boy Wonder is a _psychic?_" murmured Slade.

"You make it sound like it's something bad," Robin said angrily.

"But it _is_. You can't control your talent, that's why you're in my dreams," Slade said huskily.

Darkly, he chortled. "I'm sure if you were the one in the driver's seat, you would rather probe the wet dreams of the Tamaranean girl, than my little tidbits."

Robin reddened. He threw the mercenary a disgusted look.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said.

Slade lowered his voice into a dangerous whisper. "For your sake, I just hope you don't _hurt_ anyone with that tremendous power of yours. If you can unconsciously access a _dead_ man's mind, even across a demon's dimension, who knows what damage you can do?"

A sliver of fear trickled down Robin's spine. Repressing that grim thought, Robin addressed Slade: "Do you plan to tell me where we are? _Ever?_"

"I already told you, we're in my dreams," Slade replied coolly. When he caught Robin's glare, he folded his arms. "Ah, you mean what _part_ of my dreams?"

"This dream… is a special one. You could call it a memory of my birth, a new beginning of sorts," Slade said, gesturing at the operation table around which the doctors were crowding.

"Your birth?" repeated Robin, incredulous.

"Look at that medical chart over there. What does it say?"

Robin followed Slade's finger and squinted at the yellowed paper pinned to the wall.

"'OMEGA PROJECT – Subject X616'," he read aloud.

Robin pressed his lips into a thin line. "I'm guessing you're Subject X616?"

"It'd be the logical assumption, wouldn't it?" Slade said brusquely. Enigmatically, he clasped his hands. "Now piece it all together. You should have an answer; you _are_ the Detective's protégé, aren't you?"

Following Slade's instructions, Robin trained his gaze over the room. Once again, he noticed the strange glass cabinets lining the walls. He wandered towards one of the cabinets and squatted in front of it. There was something grey and spongy floating inside the canister; a faint odour which was reminiscent of bleach also adhered.

When Robin finally realised what was inside the cabinets, he had to stop himself from releasing yesterday's lunch on the floor. Each canister contained a human brain, buoyed in a viscous chemical bath, with wires attached where the spinal cord normally would have been. Some brains were small, almost definitely those of children. One particular cabinet, labelled 'Subject X614", was particularly harrowing. Somehow, Robin could tell that Subject X614 was not an adult, not even a soldier, but someone much younger.

Standing behind a trembling Robin, Slade was reading from a computer screen.

"'July 14, finished testing on Subject X605'," he read slowly, almost tauntingly. "'July 17, received five more specimens for the OMEGA PROJECT. Subjects X604 and X605 failed to pass performance exams… and were terminated'."

Robin stared at the glass jars. "Slade… no."

"'July 18, received Subject X611 from Division 7'," said Slade. "'Many subjects believe that this project is to increase resistance against truth serums; this deception must be maintained'."

His voice grew silky and gentle, like a lover's caress. "'July 19, commenced injections on Subject X608. X608 shows great promise and will need to be monitored in the future. New specimens were deemed unsuitable; awaiting authorisation for termination."

"'_Termination_'," Robin echoed numbly.

The sound of the word rolled off his tongue, like a vile cancer. The term was so clinical… so unfeeling.

"Have you solved the puzzle yet, Robin?" asked Slade, mocking. Throwing down the monitor, he gestured at the doctors who were preparing injections over the operation table. "A cheerful lot, are they not? Probably swapping life stories, I suppose."

Robin brought his hands to his face. His throat felt arid, as though all the moisture in the world had disappeared. It was difficult to even form syllables to speak.

"I don't believe you… Some of these subjects are _children_," Robin mumbled, shaking. "Why would the military experiment on children?"

Robin gawped at Slade. "Who are you? No… _what_ are you?"

Deliberate, Slade turned around and fixed his stare on Robin. A haze of cold fire gathered over the man's body. There was righteous fury, something not often seen Slade' face. At that moment, Robin knew that he had said the wrong thing. This man was dangerous and could actually _kill_ him, if he desired.

As Slade growled, Robin staggered backwards.

"Don't presume that you know _anything_ about my life," said Slade coldly.

Robin clenched his fists. Licking his dry lips, he tried to say something, but nothing would come out. Slade languidly sorted through the rest of the 'Omega Project' computer files, while the doctors began to adjust the dials on some sort of ventilator. _What was Slade planning? What kind of sick facility is this?_

Then, as Robin was pondering his thoughts, he felt a strange weightlessness settle over his legs. He looked down; the outline of his lower body was becoming hazy and indistinct, like the motion blur from an unstable camera. Slade strode towards Robin and studied him with a keening eye.

"Well, your time is almost up. I must be waking up soon," said Slade calmly.

"'Waking up'?" Robin repeated, disbelieving.

"Yes, Robin. Is there another explanation for your fading astral projection?" Slade sounded a little amused. "Perhaps next time, you will not choose to interrupt this particular dream. It is not one of my favourite memories. Please practice your psychic abilities before we meet again."

The weightless feeling had crawled up to his chest. Robin blinked, as the lights in the room grew brighter and brighter. His body felt ethereal, as though he was a kite drifting in the autumn breeze.

"I look forward to seeing you again," Slade said. Underneath his mask, his smirk widened. "Apprentice."

Robin could only fit in one phrase before he disappeared entirely:

"I'm _not_ your apprentice!"

Slade chuckled, shaking his head. Irritated, Robin tried to glare at the mercenary –

.

.

.

.

.

– And he was lurched back into reality.

Robin awoke with a start, gasping loudly. His shirt was plastered with sweat against his back. Groaning, he gazed up at the familiar monotone of his bedroom ceiling. There were no brains in vats, or masked sociopaths. Only the droning quiet of night-time at the Titans Tower.

Slamming his eyes shut, he pushed his head back into the pillow, frustrated. What kind of a dream was that? Dreaming about _Slade_, out of all people? If that was uncontrolled astral projection, did that mean he _wanted_ to visit Slade, on some level? On a deep, deep, _deep_ psychological level?

_Oh, Motherfu – _

Frustrated, he swore colourfully.

**.**

**/Devin's Corner, Bludhaven/**

**.**

Devin's Corner was one of Bludhaven's dingier bars. A food critic would have a field day over it. The lighting was poor, resulting from the owner's unwillingness to replace the blown-out bulbs. Most of the chairs were nothing more than two slabs of woods bolted together with third-rate nails. Service was subpar: the waitresses were more likely to spit in your food than to serve it promptly. The menu consisted of over-salted meats and over-fried sides. And most tellingly, the barkeeper had a long memory and a tendency to keep quiet. Especially when monetary rewards were involved.

Therefore, it was no surprise that the members of the underground frequented this bar. Such as the two dusky figures on Table Four.

The heavier of the two, a balding man with a snarling upper-lip, was leaning over the table.

"And you're saying that you were attacked? By a telepath?" Blockbuster demanded.

Psimon picked at his steak. As with most of Devin's food, it tasted like boiled gumboots. It was a miracle that Blockbuster's gang hadn't contracted food poisoning yet.

"It sounds silly, doesn't it?" said Psimon, stabbing the dish. "But that's what happened."

Without further warning, Blockbuster grabbed the other man and lifted him by the collar. The other patrons of the bar did not even blink. Suppressing a stab of fear, Psimon averted his gaze.

"I told you to rob the Bank of Pérez, in fact I _paid_ you to rob the Bank of Pérez." Blockbuster's grip tightened.

"And I tried my best. But there was interference, _psychic_ interference," Psimon rebutted.

"Don't joke with me. This is not the time for a sense of humour," hissed Blockbuster, his face scrunching unpleasantly like that of an enraged hound.

"It's the truth. Interrogate those snivelling H.I.V.E. children if you want."

Psimon looked directly at Blockbuster, keeping a straight face. He needed to convince the kingpin that he wasn't lying, and showing any sign of weakness would ruin the image of credibility. For a painful moment, the two criminals glared at each other. However, Blockbuster eventually took a deep breath and lowered the man back into his chair. Psimon gave a ghost of a smile.

"I already had a chat with Brother Blood and the H.I.V.E. Five," said Blockbuster.

Picking up a knife, Psimon stabbed his steak. The damn meat wouldn't even budge. "And what did the brats say?"

"They rattled off a similar anecdote. I just needed to confirm," Blockbuster said testily. "Because, let's face it, it's an unbelievable story."

Blockbuster's superior mind picked up the bitterness in Psimon's voice. "And on a different note, 'brats'? Do you not like children?"

"They're overemotional and hormonal. I would rather die thrice than play babysitter to whelps."

"Children have their uses," Blockbuster said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "They can be helpful. That's why I loaned you the H.I.V.E. Five for the bank heist. Technically, Blood contracted them to me for the rest of this year."

"I would have done much better without them," said Psimon with a sliver of anger.

Blockbuster gulped his beer down in one go. "You need to relax more. Getting fired up won't help anyone."

Psimon found that comment tremendously ironic, considering who had said it. Even with his formidable intelligence, Blockbuster possessed a flash-point temper that most villains did not want to approach with a stick. You never knew what comment would set off the man. And facing an infuriated Blockbuster was something best avoided. No one wanted to see an 8 foot man who could break your skull in half.

"Psychics… I seem to be seeing a bit too much of them lately," growled Blockbuster, slamming his fist into the table.

Psimon ignored the potential insult and asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean psychics are sabotaging my business. Another telepath ruined what should have been an easy ransom."

Blockbuster picked up Psimon's leathery steak and guzzled it down whole, like a velociraptor.

"Do you think my telepath and your telepath might be the same person?" asked Psimon, making a wild conjecture.

An eerie spark appeared in Blockbuster's eyes, as though he was suddenly witnessing a jigsaw puzzle coming together. His body tensed and trembled, although with fear or exhilaration, Psimon did not know. Blockbuster clenched his fists over the table, splintering the edge with his terrible strength. His nostrils flared with excitement. A nearby waitress shrieked when Blockbuster grabbed her by the arm.

"I'm going to order another steak," Blockbuster said, giving Psimon a sinister grin. "We have much to discuss."

**.**

**/4 Haney Street, Jump City/**

**.**

"Miss Flores, would you like some more tea?"

Catalina flicked her gaze to the cheerful maid standing beside her table. The woman was irritating, with meticulous, mousy hair and an oversized smile which only belonged in a toothpaste commercial. Adorned in a laundered pinafore and blindingly white gloves, she seemed a bit too… clean. Catalina had met a lot of people in her life, and nobody in hell was _that_ squeaky clean. There was always some dirt; the maid couldn't be an exception to the rule. The grime had to be hidden.

_If you had something to hide, then you can't be trusted._ It was one of Catalina's mottos. No, she did not like the maid's bubbly façade. Not at all.

Catalina smiled at the woman. "Yes, please. Two sugars, no milk."

"Right away, miss!"

With a little _skip_ to her step, the maid bustled to the kitchen. When she was certain that the woman was out of hearing range, Catalina dropped her smile for a frown. She fiddled with her skirt. It took a master of deception to sense dishonesty.

"If you dislike that woman so much, why don't you fire her?"

Catalina faced her companion across the table. The woman was dark skinned and dumpy, with short legs and a shorter neck which gave the impression of a wild boar. However, the fierce features – sharp nose, protruding upper-lip, and glimmering eyes – detracted anyone from even _looking_ at her in an offensive way. The two-piece business suit and dour heels completed the professional but stern image.

The woman sipped her tea. "It seems like such a hassle to me."

"It's not that simple. My brother was the one who hired her, so it's right that only he can dismiss her," said Catalina politely.

She perused a particularly vivid bouquet of wildflowers. "On the topic of my family, what are you doing here, Mrs Waller? I'm assuming you're trying to visit Papa?"

The woman known as Amanda Waller raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"I'm not stupid. You're a busy woman, Mrs Waller. I doubt that you have time to squeeze in a recreational visit into your schedule of globetrotting and policy-making."

It was left unsaid that Catalina's father was an influential bureaucrat, stationed within Jump City. Indeed, the Jump City press speculated that Fidel Flores was set to be elected as Mayor in the near future. His work in Bludhaven was not unrewarded.

"I can't slip anything past you, can I?" said Waller, stirring her camomile tea. "You were always a sharp child."

She met Catalina's gaze. "Your father and I have an agreement. Private business. Is he around?"

"He's running a little late from a meeting with Mayor Garza. Could I take a message?" said Catalina.

"I doubt it. This doesn't concern you, Catalina."

The tearoom became quiet again. Waller took another sip of her tea, while Catalina waited for the maid to return to the room. The girl leaned back into her armchair; it was expensive, sprawling with polished, mahogany wood and cross-stitched leather cushions. That was not why this chair was Catalina's favourite, though. There was a more personal reason.

"How is your arm? You injured it two, three weeks ago?" asked Waller.

Catalina straightened in the chair. "It's fine. The doctor says it will heal."

"Hm, the plaster cast must be troublesome," Waller commented dryly.

Catalina thanked the maid when she wheeled a tray of tea into the room. Sipping the steaming oolong, she closed her eyes. Yes, the plaster cast was annoying, especially when it came to showering and using the toilet. But she didn't mind it particularly. The world wasn't ending.

"I manage," she said.

"Of course, but I'm more than a little concerned about how you broke your arm," said Waller.

_Crap._ "I fell down the stairs. Didn't Papa tell you?"

"Your father never even mentioned your arm," said Waller carefully. "However, I heard that your injury was no accident."

She folded a napkin. "Did somebody hurt you, Catalina?"

An image of a cute boy wearing tights entered her mind. His dark hair glistened in the pallid moonlight. Her fingers brushed against his own.

"Mrs Waller, I fell out of the shower. There's nothing more," Catalina replied in a tight voice.

Waller opened her mouth to say something, when a stocky man ambled into the tearoom. The man's square jaw tightened while he pulled a seat next to Catalina. He patted down his thatched hair.

"Amanda, it is always a pleasure to meet you," he said, kissing Waller's hand. "I have to say, I was a little surprised to hear that you were visiting. You never have time to spare."

"Fidel." Waller gave an almost imperceptible smile. "I always have time to spare when it comes to you."

"Papa, you're late. You said you'd be here by four; it's nearly five," said Catalina briskly, as Fidel took his seat.

Worried, she pursued her lips. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened, sweetheart. The city council had to deal with some extra paperwork, that's all," Fidel reassured his daughter.

"Extra paperwork, Fidel? That wouldn't have to do with that incident yesterday, would it?"

Fidel returned Waller's hard gaze. Frustrated, he threw his hands in the air. "You won't believe the damage Mad Mod had caused! He hypnotised the entire city and then replaced the buildings with British replicas. It'll take weeks of refurbishment to restore the City Hall alone."

"Doesn't Jump have its own heroes to deal with these… problems?" asked Waller.

Catalina toyed with the hem of her designer skirt; she did not wish to look at her father's face. It was bound to be flushed with anger, which made her uncomfortable.

"_The Teen Titans_." Fidel all but spat the words out. "Those teenage wonders are reckless. They have the right intentions, I suppose, but every time they try to do good, Jump becomes a bombsite."

"But Papa, they saved the city from Mad Mod," Catalina replied diplomatically.

"Their leader managed to get captured, while the other four floundered around aimlessly for at least five hours," growled Fidel, bringing his fist down on the table.

"What are you trying to say? Jump loves them. Surely that's enough," Waller said.

The tension slackened out of Fidel's arms. His face became weary. "I don't hate them. But sometimes, they act irresponsibly, outside the law, as though Jump is their playground. They act like – "

" – like they're children," Waller finished.

Fidel nodded, while Catalina squirmed in her seat. "Exactly. And the idea of superpowered, hormonal teenagers wandering through our city, without any supervision or regulation… it frightens me, quite frankly."

"If there is only a way to control and police the metahumans," said Waller lazily.

Catalina narrowed her eyes. Something in Waller's tone bothered her. It was honeyed, yes, but there was also a hint of danger, like poisoned mead. Catalina prided herself on knowing people, and Amanda Waller was not one to mince words. The mountain boar was planning something, something against the 'superhumans'. The question was _'what?'_

Catalina tinkered with her teacup. "I don't see anything wrong with the Teen Titans, Papa. The public adores them. Maybe we should let them be."

"The public often doesn't know what's best for them," said Fidel. "Their opinion changes with the wind. However, unlike them, I have not forgotten about the Aftershock, about _Terra_."

"The geokinetic girl?" Waller said.

"She drove Jump into the ground. It does not matter if she sacrificed herself to defeat her master. One act cannot atone for a dozen others. The Titans were responsible for her, they should have kept her under control."

Fidel massaged his temple. "But what do they do instead? Let her go berserk, and erect a _statue_ to her afterwards."

"Talk about audacity," Waller said, raising her eyebrows.

"Exactly," he said, gulping his tea in one go. "Jump is not their private amusement park."

Catalina thought of the dark-haired boy with the enigmatic mask. He had a frightening power, there was no doubt about that. She remembered what he had done that day. But he was also gentle, kind, caring… It was difficult to reconcile what she knew about him and what she had been taught about him.

"The Titans are still heroes to the city. We support them, even fund them," said Catalina evenly.

Fidel turned around hastily, sending the teacup flying. Catalina resisted the urge to wince.

"Sweetheart, remember what happened to your arm," he said. He dropped his voice, forcing Catalina to lean closer to hear. "Have you forgotten what happened five years ago?"

Catalina glanced at their family portrait, which hung on the south wall. They were all there: her father, her mother, her brother Mateo. Even Grandmother Esperanza was present, wearing her scratchy, old blazer.

Charily, Catalina sunk into the armchair, a vestige of her mother. Fidel gripped his teacup.

"Fidel, I have to be blunt with you," said Waller sternly. "Your city needs tighter controls. The municipal government cannot afford to delegate any more power to the vigilantes. It doesn't send out a good message about authority figures."

While Fidel harrumphed, Catalina fidgeted with collar of her blouse. Increasingly, the atmosphere in the room became distasteful for Catalina's liking.

"Luckily for you, I have a simple solution for your problems," Waller continued.

Her dark eyes glinted. "Now listen closely…"

**.**

**/Titans Tower, Jump City/**

**.**

Lunch was a chaotic affair.

Beast Boy complained about the meat in his supposedly vegetarian salad, while Cyborg yelled that 'you eat what you get'. To make matters worse, Starfire somehow managed to set the kitchen on _fire_; one of her Tamaranean dishes had stayed a little too long in the oven. Moreover, while they tried to extinguish the exploding pies, Cyborg accidentally drenched Raven in water. Beast Boy, being Beast Boy, laughed at the sight and rewarded with a whip of black energy. He tumbled back from Raven's annoyed attack, colliding into Starfire who was picking up one of the fallen pies. Soaring out of the startled girl's hands, the pie then flew across the room… into Robin's face.

To summarise, it was a typical day at the Titans Tower.

"Robin! Are you okay?" exclaimed Starfire, her eyes wide with concern.

Robin wiped the pie residue off his face. For unfathomable reasons, the green paste was giving his skin an irritating rash. He shuddered to think what ingredients Starfire packed into the pie and called 'food'.

"I'm fine, Star. Could have done with a little less salt, though," he said jokingly.

Cyborg was bent over with laughter, clutching his stomach. His good eye was actually watering with hilarity.

"Oh, man! You should'a seen your face," said Cyborg, wiping his tears. "Like my old dog, Shamski… when he gets splashed by a passing car."

"It wasn't that funny," intoned Raven, as she cast a spell over Robin's face. Instantly, the rest of the pie gunk disappeared.

Grinning, Beast Boy slung his arm around Cyborg. "Are you kidding? That was one of the weirdest, funniest moments, _ever_!"

"Still," the shapeshifter contemplated. "Raven getting soaked was funnier."

Beast Boy yelped when Raven jabbed him in the butt, telekinetically. Starfire giggled, while Robin fought the urge to snort. Cyborg simply collapsed into racketing laughter again.

As Robin stood up, he shook his head. This was why he preferred to work with teams rather than alone. The number of times you got to laugh was exponential, especially when Beast Boy was present. And who was to say the Boy Wonder didn't have a funny bone? He wasn't _Batman_, you know.

Thirsty, he opened the fridge and peered inside. There were a few leftover slices of pizza, a box of cold stir-fry, and a purple… syrup which _giggled _when Robin touched it. But nothing to drink. Sure, he could drink the syrup, but something told Robin that it was one of Starfire's Tamaranean delicacies, which automatically translated to 'biochemical hazard'.

"Guys, we're out of drinks," said Robin, as he closed the fridge.

Cyborg wheeled around. "What d'ya mean? No milk?"

"No milk, no soda, nothing."

"But I stocked up yesterday! I bought _four_ cartons," shouted Cyborg.

As the cybernetic teen grew confused, Beast Boy reddened. He looked pointedly at the ceiling, which didn't escape Raven's notice.

"Beast Boy," started Raven drearily. "What did you do this time?"

"I didn't mean to do it!" said Beast Boy, as the other four Titans turned to face him. "I wanted to give my worm a milk bath!"

Robin cocked an eyebrow. "Your worm?"

"I meant my feet! No, my hands! No, um…" Beast Boy scratched his head, before grinning widely. "My little soldier! That's it. I gave my 'little soldier' a bath."

"'Little soldier'? What does a lactic beverage have to do with the military?" Starfire asked innocently.

"Don't ask, Starfire," said Cyborg hastily.

"That's right! I gave the old Private some milk," Beast Boy said triumphantly. "I thought that it'd help him salute, if you know what I mean."

Raven deadpanned, "You're disgusting."

Beast Boy stuck his tongue out at Raven, which the girl ignored promptly. Cyborg turned to Robin.

"Well, I need the milk. I can't make waffles or pancakes without it," he said.

"I'll visit the supermarket," Robin volunteered. "It's good idea to get some fresh air, anyway."

Starfire perked up. "Robin, shall I join you?"

"No need, Star. It won't take long."

Robin walked past the sofa, loosening the choke of his cape. He was already fiddling with the contraption on his mask. After he activated a hidden trigger in his gloves, the adhesive fibres of the mask began to loosen. By this time, he was already halfway out the door. Robin walked up the stairs and into his bedroom. The domino mask fell on the desk. It sat amongst his cross-referenced maps and psychoanalytic profiles on Jump's supervillains. Ordinarily, the absence of his mask would bother him, but for an unfathomable reason, Robin was unperturbed.

"I'll be back in ten minutes," he called out, so the others downstairs could hear. "Try not to break anything before I come back."

Cyborg yelled something affirmative, as Robin closed his bedroom door. He threw down his cape. Robin didn't understand why, but he felt like adopting his civilian persona. The public adoration he received as Robin was dandy. As Beast Boy aptly put it, "fangirls were awesome rewards for a hero's work". However, being Robin 24/7 was taxing. It would be nice to visit a store without being gawked at.

"Batman would kill me if he knew," muttered Robin.

He picked out a blue sweater, trying it on. The Dark Knight would definitely find more than one problem with Robin's decision. A vigilante's work was never finished, the mask was more than just a symbol, danger was everywhere, etcetera, etcetera. Robin rolled his eyes; he had memorised all of Batman's lectures. However, this was Jump City, not Gotham. Crime-rates were much lower, and the police force was not a pack of mumbling fools. Five minutes without Robin wasn't going to kill anyone.

"Besides, the shop is right around the corner," said Robin, as he changed out of his clothes. "This won't even take three minutes."

After putting on his civilian outfit, Robin glanced at the mirror. The dull, blue sweater was itchy, something which appeared homemade. His choice of slacks was worn and unexceptional. He even took the effort to flatten his signature, unruly hair. Overall, he had gained a boring, commonplace look. Most people wouldn't look at him twice.

_Perfect._

He grabbed a pair of sunglasses to protect his identity, somewhat. Happy with appearance, Robin unlocked the door and snuck out of the Titans Tower.

It was annoying that he couldn't use the R-Cycle; the motorcycle would too conspicuous. Thankfully, Cyborg installed some sort of cybernetic tunnel which connected the Titans Tower to the downtown sewers. "For quick deployment," Cyborg had claimed.

Cyborg was right; using the tunnel took far less time than it should have. Robin speculated if some sort of modified teleporter was involved. In less than two minutes, the teen reached the end of a manhole. Pushing the cover over, Robin discreetly checked his surroundings and then pulled himself out.

"Okay, what do I need again? Right. Milk."

Robin dusted the sewer gunk off his sweater. Judging from the hulking Durandal Communications Tower that was approximately five blocks away, he was somewhere in the quieter parts of downtown. As a residential area, calm apartment blocks controlled the region. And convenience stores thrived upon apartment complexes, like a mould would on a hunk of meat. It shouldn't be too difficult to finish his grocery shopping.

"It couldn't hurt to buy some caster sugar," Robin muttered to himself. "Starfire probably used it all up in making that, um, pie-_thing_."

As he strolled down the relatively empty street, Robin took a few minutes to take in his environment. It was peaceful; flippant schoolgirls were eating their packed sandwiches under bustling oak trees, chatting about the upcoming school term. Humming to himself, a young father pushed a stroller and a motley of boys, their faces streaked with grime and giant grins, tossed around a baseball. Pergola cafés displayed sandwich boards proclaiming lunchtime specials. A few businessmen sipped espressos to-go, presumably on their coffee breaks. The cornershops rustled with activity: kids strolled out of a comic book store, hugging their copies of "Young Saviours". At a newsagency, a pregnant woman perused the self-help books.

Robin smiled. Nobody stopped to gape at him. They were minding their own business, undisturbed by villains or crime of any sort. _This is… nice._

Then, something happened. As Robin was turning the corner, a slew of excited boys scampered out of the comic book store. The one holding a Green Hawk figurine accidentally slammed into a schoolgirl who was standing nearby. Gasping with surprise, the girl spun towards Robin, who hastily caught her. However, the crook of her arm managed to knock off Robin's sunglasses. The Boy Wonder staggered backwards, managing to not drop the girl.

"Urgh, that hurt," mumbled the girl.

"Are you alright?" Robin asked, helping her to her feet.

She raised her head, flicking her long ponytail. A signature red bow gleamed in the summer sunlight. Hazel eyes met widening blue.

"I'm sorry," said Catalina. "Do I know you?"

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-X-X-X-

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End file.
